Nothing Gold Can Stay
by Trip McNeely
Summary: "Rebuilding can sometimes be harder than the loss". This is a story set post-novel about the three Curtis brothers; Darry, Soda and Ponyboy, and the events that happen after Dally and Johnny's deaths. **COMPLETED**
1. Chapter One

NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, this is chapter one! *claps* I became inspired to write this after reading some fanfiction here and I wanted a piece of the action so.here goes! This is set post novel, and I did this because I didn't want to go back and change The Outsiders and I wanted a challenge. Sorry if it's so long, I sort of got carried away. If anyone has any ideas, please feel free to suggest them in the review (hint hint). Especially for names, I have a hard time coming up with ones I like. So here goes.  
  
CHAPTER ONE  
  
June 1965  
  
PONYBOY CURTIS' POINT OF VIEW  
  
I'd love to start things off by saying "it was an ordinary day", but hardly anything's been ordinary since Dally and Johnny died. It affected every one of us. And besides, even if they weren't.you know, dead, then it still wouldn't be ordinary. But it'd be better then the alternative.  
  
You see, I'm a greaser, a JD, a hood. I grease my hair and drive fast cars and smoke and drink and all that good shit. Not that my brother, Darry, is too proud of that. He don't like the fact I stay out too late and coast through high school. I understand what he's trying to say, just I don't bother to listen. It was one of those school nights where I'm supposed to be gettin' a good night's sleep, but since Soda and Steve were going to some hotshot dance at high school, the semi annual, semi formal, semi important Prom or somethin'. I figured mine as well stay for as long as I could. Soda's my other brother. My folks died back when I was young in a car crash, so Soda and Darry take care of me. Soda dropped out of high school 'cuz he claimed he was too dumb. I don't believe that though. I think some of the wisest things you learn from some of the most uneducated people. Like Sodapop. He lives life everyday like it was his last, even though he's a poor-as-dirt greaser who works at a gas station.  
  
Speaking of which, we were at that very gas station Sodapop and his best friend Steve Randle worked at. Steve don't like me much, and it's mutual 'cuz I don't like him either, though we've gotten better since Johnny and Dally.died and all. He's only seventeen but he moved out of his folks' house after one helluva fight they had. He supports himself and his cousin from Kansas, Anya. She's Soda's girlfriend, sweet as all get out but not the brightest girl around.  
  
So it was just the five of us, me, Soda, Steve, Anya and Steve's girl Evie. Anya was sucking on a cherry lollipop and waiting for closing time. She was only sixteen but wore heavy eye make-up and lipstick that made her look like she was seventeen. Evie and Anya are the type of girls we greasers run around with; they swear, wear heavy make-up and wait nervously for their boys to come home from the latest rumble between the Socs, the upper-class snobs that like to gang up on us. We all carry blades now, even the girls.  
  
Evie lit a cigarette and passed her lighter to Anya, "Hey, Stevie, when you closing up? We ain't got all night."  
  
"Yeah, hold on, dollface," Steve said as he walked outside to attend a customer. Soda was helping out at the cashier register, although he can't do math. I was sitting outside drinking a Pepsi. That's when Two-Bit Mathews popped in. He's another one of our little gang, always boozed up but always got a wisecrack up his sleeve. Pretty cool guy, even though he's a junior at eighteen and a half. He ruffled my hair, "Hey, kid, gotta smoke?"  
  
"Yeah, don't call me kid," I said grudgingly as I handed him a Camel. I really meant it, but he don't care.  
  
"Hey, what's goin' on here, Presbyterian Church Meetin' or somethin'?" asked Two-Bit sarcastically. I was shocked he knew such a big word as Presbyterian. Evie and Anya giggled at his comment, finding humor where I didn't.  
  
"Yeah, Two-Bit, we're headin' to a dance," Soda told him. "Down at the high school. We can give ya a ride if ya need one."  
  
Two-Bit shook his head, "Nah, I'm just gonna wander around downtown. Wanna come, Ponyboy?"  
  
"Sure," I said nonchalantly. I threw my cigarette butt out into the busy streets. I had been sitting on the steps of the gas station's refreshment store, just starin' out at the sunset. I dig sunsets more then anyone else in our gang. 'cept Johnny, Johnny used to at least try to 'stand them. Till he died. And Cherry Valance, a Socy girl, real nice. Pretty as all get out too.  
  
I stood up and left with Two-Bit by the time Soda and Steve closed shop. We began to wander aimlessly around downtown. We passed by Tim Shepard and his gang who were slashing the tires on some tuff lookin' Mustang. It would be tough to tell if any of them were actually sober.  
  
"Heya, Tim," shouted Two-Bit. "Haven't seen you around since you robbed that Winn Dixie, hey?" Darry would've killed me if he knew I was runnin' around with Tim Shepard and his gang. Then again, Darry didn't have to know. Tim looked up to see Two-Bit. In one arm was a greasy lookin' broad, and in the other was a bottle of vodka.  
  
"Hey, if it ain't Two-Bit and Ponyboy. Give 'em a warm welcome, boys!" The gang clapped.  
  
Two-Bit grinned and held out his arms, "Thank you, thank you, I'll be back tomorrow."  
  
"So what's a kid grease like you doin' out so late?" Tim asked before taking a swig of alcohol. Two-Bit grabbed the bottle and downed nearly half of it. He wiped the excess off on his leather jacket and passed the bottle to me. I took a quick drink before passing it to Tim's girl of the week. She nearly downed the whole bottle.  
  
"Eh, leave him alone, Shepard. Didn't wanna go to that high school dance with Soda and Steve and their girls," defended Two-Bit. He stumbled and nearly fell face first into the concrete. I hated watching them get drunk.  
  
"Hey, Timmy, let's go to the Prom afterwards," said Tim's girlfriend. I could smell her breath from the five feet I was standing away from her. Vodka can smell really nasty after a while.  
  
"Good idea, Kathy. After we hold up that supermarket we'll need a place to hide out," Tim replied. He kissed his girl for what seemed like an eternity before turning to me and Two-Bit, "Well, see ya hoods around."  
  
"See ya, Tim," Two-Bit said as Tim and his gang left. He shook his head chuckling, "That Tim Shepard sure is nice. C'mon, I'll buy you a Pepsi at 7-11." So we started walking off to the 7-11. Little did I know I would meet the girl of my dreams there.  
  
SODAPOP CURTIS' POINT OF VIEW  
  
On a Thursday night, everyone in Tulsa, Oklahoma drove like a maniac. I was no exception. Me best friend, Steve, and his girl, Evie, was in the back of the truck while Anya Randle sat in the front. I looked to Anya and was just purely amazed. Her soft dark blonde hair was lifted in the mad rush of air while her brown eyes gazed out the window. She had that small town charm, coming from a farm on Kansas. She's been the only girl that's brought a smile to my face since the day Sandy left.  
  
I parked Darry's beat-up truck on the sidewalk as he, Steve, Anya and Evie hopped out of the car. Darry was out for the weekend skiing with a group of friends he went to high school with, so I don't think he would mind too much. As we walk into the Prom I drape an arm over Anya's shoulders. They seem to be shaking from the cold.  
  
A live garage band was playing there. They don't have much talent, hell, they didn't have any talent but they played some kickin' tunes. Y'see, normally there's strict places for the Socs and the greasers. Us greasers have The Dingo and The Way Out, while the Socs (I'm not sure how to spell it, it's the abbreviation of socials) have their own fancy hang-outs. I dropped out of high school since I was too dumb, but Evie and Anya were still enrolled so they could sneak us in.  
  
"C'mon, Anya," I said. Something was wrong, I could see it in her eyes. They weren't the lively brown eyes I first gazed into when she first came up to visit. They were clouded over and dark. "What's wrong, babydoll?"  
  
"Nothing," she murmured. I thought I saw a tear roll down her face but I couldn't swear to it. I tried to lift her chin with my finger to see what was wrong, but she only looked away.  
  
"Hold on for a moment," she said, and then she hurried off to the direction of the bathroom. She was clutching her purse or somethin' on the way there. I shrugged. I frankly wanted to send Evie in there to see what was wrong but she was too busy dancing with Steve.  
  
It was just then somebody bumped into me. I turned around and saw it was another teenager, a dirt blonde haired Soc from the looks of it. He was tall, with dark, unrelenting eyes, with a bowl cut and a cigarette dangling from his thin lips. Next to him was a pretty blonde girl, another Soc, though she seemed to look a little friendlier.  
  
"Hey, get outta my way, grease," spat the Soc.  
  
His girlfriend tried to calm him down, "Leave him alone, Spike, he wasn't bothering anybody."  
  
"Shuddup, Sarah, and stay back with Gloria," snapped the Soc, Spike. His buddy moved to the front, while the girl, Sarah, stood next to the other girl, a classy looking brunette. Spike took out his cigarette and threw it at me. The burning butt burned my skin briefly but was dowsed as it fell to the ground.  
  
"I don't even know why the allow trash like you in here," Spike said. He sounded drunk but with some people you can never tell if that's how they normally talk or they're drunk off their rocker. Like Two-Bit. He's always drunk, so that's his usual voice.  
  
The bandleader was trying in vain to calm the audience, shouting, "We're taking requests now! Anyone? A little Beatles.Elvis.anybody?" The dance crowd was beginning to move closer and closer. Steve and Evie had now moved to the forefront to counter Spike and his friend.  
  
"Hey, leave us alone, we were just partyin'," I said. Spike wasn't listening, he looked to his friend and snickered before turning back to us, "Is that so? Hey, Chris, is that the way it looked to you?"  
  
"Nope," said Spike's friend Chris.  
  
"Same here," said Spike. I had my hand on my blade just in case he tried to pull something.  
  
"Spike, it's getting dark," said Spike's girlfriend Sarah. "Take me home."  
  
"I told you to shut up," barked Spike.  
  
"Hey, looks like the big time Socs here need a woman to nag at them all day," Steve catcalled. Spike's face flushed with anger.  
  
The cute brunette, Gloria, began to say something, "Chris, Sarah's right, let's just head home."  
  
"We're not finished with them grease-" began Chris. He never got the chance to finish.  
  
"Now!" ordered Gloria. Chris and Spike looked to one another and sighed. The Soc turned back just one last time, gloating, "Don't think this is finished."  
  
"Yeah, don't think it is either," snarled Steve as the four Socs left. He took out a cigarette and began to smoke. It was then that Anya had come back. She seemed a bit better now, so we started to pick up the pace and dance.  
  
PONYBOY'S POINT OF VIEW  
  
I can still 'member it. Night had already begun to settle, even though it was just ten with the last view strands of sunlight desperately trying to survive. Two-Bit and I had started walking to the local 7-11 just to buy some cigarettes and a Pepsi or two. We weren't in too hot of a neighborhood; Soda and Steve had got jumped here by greasers themselves. Two-Bit was stumbling nearly the entire way, and he started to slur his words together. I could smell the vodka on his breath.  
  
I breathed in the scent of a barbecue not too far away. I liked June a lot. School was wrapping up, so Darry gave me and Soda a bit more leisurely time to spend. Me and Darry have actually begun getting along lately, ever since Johnny and Dally.well, died.  
  
Two-Bit and I walked into the store and said hi to the cashier, Larry. He's a black guy about Darry's age, richer then us but not by much. I walked over to the cigarettes aisle in the back while Two-Bit began looking for something to shoplift. Even in his best buddy's own store he has to shoplift.  
  
It was then that all hell broke loose. I remember it clearly. A tuff lookin' Thunderbird pulled up in the parking lot. Two guys, a blonde with a bowl cut and a black haired Soc wearing a madras, and two girls, a blonde and a brunette, hopped out of the car. The brunette was not bad, a bit skinny but cute nonetheless. It was the blonde that made me stare. She had legs of an actual woman, with soft, icy blonde hair and beautiful olive green eyes. She was a head turner.  
  
However, I noticed that the two guys were in a bad mood, and that's one thing you don't wanna cross; two Socs in a bad mood. I whispered to Two-Bit, "Socs, hide." He seemed perfectly content to, and made himself comfortable but sitting down and smelling the Coke he had swiped.  
  
The blonde guy with the bowl cut kicked open the door. Larry was startled, and I saw him cower. The two girls, both who seemed like perfectly proper young ladies, immediately went off to find bubble gum. I always liked the way Socy girls looked. They didn't wear too much make-up and wore their dresses at a decent length. These two were no exception, although they were wearing the latest fad, a miniskirt created by some London woman. The blonde though was really good looking, and the burgundy red skirt with the proper white top made her stunning.  
  
Out of the blue, the male, blonde Soc took out a pistol and pointed it at Larry, "Give me all the money, n*****." (Author's Note: I'm really sorry for the racial slurs. I just wanted to show how amoral Spi-er, the blonde haired Soc was so please forgive me thanks)  
  
"Spike, what the heck do you think you're doing?" demanded the good looking blonde girl. Just then, the other male, the one with the black hair, took out a pistol as well. He fired at Larry's telephone, "We mean business."  
  
"Christopher!" shouted the brunette Soc. The black haired Soc, Chris, grabbed Larry and held him up against the wall with the gun at his throat while Spike went shuffling through the cash register. The two girls stood there, the blonde especially appalled, while the brunette looked slightly fearful.  
  
"This all you got?" asked the blonde Soc, Spike as he held up a wad of dollars. Larry nodded, beads of sweat dripping down his face. I could only peer over the aisle, watching the looks of horror cross the blonde girl's face.  
  
Spike shrugged, "We'll take it." He crammed the money into his bag and began to throw open boxes, taking anything of value.  
  
"Spike, when I meant that we should leave from the Prom I didn't mean to rob a 7-11!" shouted the blonde girl. "This is illegal."  
  
"Look, don't even get started on your smart shit 'cuz I ain't got time for it," shouted Spike, pointing with his gun at the girl. He waltzed over to the gum rack and tossed bubble gum to the girls. The blonde girl let it fall to the ground, while the brunette caught it. She opened it up and popped a piece of bubble gum into her mouth.  
  
"Gloria!" shouted the blonde.  
  
"What?" she said. "We've already caused the crime, mine as well get something out of it." The brunette happily settled back to chewing the bubble gum. The blonde haired girl crossed her arms. I couldn't believe what was happening. Sure, Dally used to rob stores, that's how he ended up dead. But never had I been apart of one.  
  
"Well, that looks about it," said Spike. "Don't worry, we'll be back next week. Let's go, Chris." Spike's partner-in-crime, Chris, lowered the gun from Larry's throat. But to make the score even, he walloped him across the face. I heard a crack, like the sound of someone chewing rocks, and Larry tumbled to the ground. Chris then kicked Larry in the stomach and hit him over the head with the gun. Chris and Spike, followed by Gloria and then the blonde, hurried outside. I watched from the window, and saw the two male Socs get in the Thunderbird.  
  
"What are you two broads doin', c'mon, the fuzz'll be here any minute," Spike said. The blonde stood her ground, arms crossed, refusing to budge. Gloria, the brunette, looked nervously back between her friend and her boyfriend.  
  
"Ah, c'mon, Sarah, I'll split the money with us four ways," said Spike.  
  
"This is wrong!" the blonde said. "This is a federal crime, Spike. You can get charged, put on trial, even put in jail!"  
  
"No we won't," said Spike, lighting his cigarette with his car lighter. "We're Socs. We never get blamed for anything. Remember last week, the Winn Dixie? All I had to do was say it was one of those greaser idiots and the fuzz believed me. Now get in the car."  
  
"No!"  
  
"Get in the fucking car, Sarah!"  
  
"That's not the way you talk to a lady," shouted the girl. Their voices were getting really loud now. I could see the apparent horror in the blonde's eyes, and the cruel gaze of her boyfriend Spike.  
  
"Gloria, we'll give you a ride home," Chris said. Gloria sighed, looked to her best friend and then her boyfriend, and slowly walked over to the Thunderbird and got into the car seat. By the look on her face, she didn't seem too happy with her decision.  
  
"Gloria!" shouted the blonde girl. The Thunderbird began to peel out of the driveway, "Hey, wait, I want a ride." The Thunderbird then burned rubber as they skidded off, with the blonde girl shouting, "Fine! I don't need you! I can walk home!" I saw her rub her arms and sit down on the sidewalk, slightly shaking.  
  
I had to tell Two-Bit, "Wake up, Two-Bit, wake up, we've been robbed?"  
  
"Wha.?" he asked. He had already passed out from alcohol overdose. I sighed, but I heard some voices coming from outside. I stood up and saw a gang of greasers edge forward to the abandoned girl. I saw glimmers of knives and chains, and I began to get worried. These weren't average greasers; they were the Brumly boys, bums through and through. Steve had told me a story about them that made me nearly vomit. He said he'd never let Anya or Evie out of his sight ever again.  
  
"Hey little girl." The Soc turned to see who had spoken, "Who's there?"  
  
"Just us bad boys of the night," the Brumly gangster said. He had a scar and a broken nose. His fingers looked like they had been horribly cut as well. The leader seemed to look more like Frankenstein's monster then an actual teenager hood.  
  
"Greasers," The Soc said. The Brumly boys laughed, "You could call us that."  
  
"Look, I don't have any money." the girl began to explain.  
  
The Brumly ringleader laughed, "Oh well. Guess we'll have to settle for something else. How long do you think she'll struggle, boys?"  
  
"I'd say about half an hour," said one of the other Brumly boys.  
  
"Good," said the Brumly ringleader, "I love it when they fight back."  
  
"Wait, I don't quite understand." began the Soc. It finally dawned upon her, and her face grew queasy. "Oh my word.somebody, HELP ME!" The 7-11 was in a lonely neighborhood, where everyone ignored the panic screams in fear of mugged and then knifed.  
  
"Two-Bit, wake up!" I said urgently, shaking him. I couldn't let that girl get thrown to that pack of wolves like that. No one deserved that. I frantically shook Two-Bit and watched in horror as the ringleader grabbed the Soc. She started to punch him, but she was no match for even the weakest one of them. Figuring out that I couldn't wake up Two-Bit, I slung him over my shoulders and hurried out, "Get away from her!" The Brumly boys and the Soc turned to see me. I couldn't believe it. There had to have been at least seven of them, and not a single one unarmed in the least.  
  
"Look at what we got here, boys," the ringleader said. "A kid grease standing up for the Socy broad. Well whatcha gonna do, kid grease? Whatcha gonna do for the girl, huh?"  
  
I frankly had no idea of what I was going to do. I only had Two-Bit's and my blade, and that wouldn't help much to hold off against seven hoods. The leader threw the blonde Soc to another of his friends, who grabbed her purse, her only fighting weapon before chucking the girl to the concrete ground. The girl, beaten and abused, gladly fell to the ground, sobbing like a little child.  
  
It was just then that Two-Bit woke up. He clutched his skull and shook his head violently, "Man, I think I'm gonna puke."  
  
Immediately the Brumly boys dropped their weapons. The leader looked apologetic, saying, "Two-Bit, hey, we're sorry for messing with your woman. We didn't know.yeah, yeah, that's it. Let's go, boys." The Brumly boys immediately scampered off. I had no idea why Two-Bit's presence had an effect over them, but I wasn't disappointed that's for sure. I then hurried over to the girl while Two-Bit sat on the sidewalk, shaking his head and muttering to himself.  
  
"It's alright," I soothed. "They're gone now. I'm not gonna hurt you." The blonde girl looked up at me, her cheeks tear-stained. God, she was beautiful even then. Her face was a mix between confusion and a yearning to trust. Her white blouse was torn, and she looked like a wreck.  
  
"H-h-how can I trust you?" she asked.  
  
"Do you think the Brumly boys back there would give you a ride home?" I asked. I held out my hand, "Ponyboy Curtis."  
  
She skeptically looked at it before shaking it, "I'm Sarah, Sarah Van Pelt." She tried to stand up, but tripped over her shoes. I caught her in my arms.  
  
"Thank you," she said. She brushed her tousled blonde hair out of her face. "Thank you for saving me, I've never been out at night without someone with me, usually Spike." Her voice drifted off as I helped her to Larry's truck. His car door was open, making it all the easier to sneak into.  
  
"Isn't this that cashier's car?" asked Sarah. I nodded as I threw Two- Bit in the back. He was beginning to wake up, but still hadn't grasped the concept of what had happened. I hadn't driven a truck before, I was only fifteen but I'd seen Soda and Darry do it plenty of times before. Sarah seemed to have calmed down a bit, but her eyes still had a bewildered look to them.  
  
"So, Ponyboy, how old are you?" she asked. I guess she was trying to make conversation, so I figured I mine as well talk to the girl.  
  
"Fifteen," I replied.  
  
Sarah looked a bit startled, "Wait, you're not old enough to drive."  
  
"Ah, I've seen Darry and Soda do it. Can't be too hard," I said. I lied. I was trying to make it look easier then it really was. No such luck.  
  
After I got the car out on the road, Sarah continued talking to me, "I think I've seen you around school. Cherry talked about you--"  
  
"You know Cherry?" I asked. Cherry Valance was a Soc and the first person that made me confirm I wasn't going insane. What could I say about Cherry? Cherry was Cherry, and I was glad that it was that way.  
  
Sarah nodded, "Yeah. I go to her 4th of July barbecues all the time. It's just you're in your sophomore year and you had to be fourteen when you started high school."  
  
"Yeah, I got put up a year in grade school. Darry, my brother, he says I'm smart and all."  
  
"Well, you seem well educated," she said brightly. "You could grow up and do good things for this world, because we sure need it."  
  
"What do you mean?" I asked.  
  
She shrugged, "Well, nowadays people are saying you can't trust anyone over thirty. Our parents lived in a different time and they don't understand what's going on. Time's are changing, Ponyboy. Black folks getting respect, we've got Russians in space, our own president was assassinated." I could tell Sarah was real passionate about what she was saying. She sighed and continued. "High school isn't going to last forever. It just seems like there's no one out there that realizes that."  
  
"I do." She looked up at me and nodded slightly. I couldn't tell if she was smiling or not. There was an awkward silence between us, as if we had an idea of what to say but not the right words. And then, for some reason to this day I have no idea why, I started telling her everything. About Dally and Johnny and the church fire. Through this she did nothing but listen, ingesting all of what I was telling her.  
  
When I was finished, she paused for a moment before speaking, "I know what you mean, Ponyboy. It should've changed, with Johnny and Dallas Winston's deaths. We're little better then we were back then. I just don't understand. There's a lot of people these days who don't care about anything these days--"  
  
"Like Spike and Chris?" I asked randomly.  
  
Sarah nodded painfully, "Yes, like Spike and Chris. They've done this before, it's disgusting. They don't have any aspirations or hopes other then to get drunk and sleep with as many girls as possible. I wish I could say what you saw today wasn't how they always act, but.it is." I glanced over to see Sarah. She looked on the verge of tears, as if her relationship with her boyfriend was too painful to talk about. The mixed emotions on her face were near impossible to read. I would've given anything at that moment to make her feel better.  
  
"I don't want to go home tonight," she said softly as I somehow managed to park Larry's car in front of her house. It was incredible. It was three stories tall, an old Victorian house painted white. The lawn was perfect, amongst everything else. "Face my parents, or Spike or anyone."  
  
"Well, if you want," I said, blushing like a bashful schoolboy, "you can stay at my place. I don't think my brothers will mind."  
  
Sarah looked over at me. I could only see this through peripheral vision, since I suddenly found the steering wheel to Larry's car quite fascinating. I could've sworn she gave me a small smile, "You're a good man, Ponyboy. I'll see you around." And then she stepped out of the truck, shut the door and strolled up the stairs to her front door. I waited to make sure she was in safely, then tried to figure out how I was going to drive back to my place. 


	2. Chapter Two

Author's Note: First off, I have to give a nice big thank you to SodasGurl and Sammie for being the first ones to review my work. *applauds*. Okay, on to business. This chapter starts jumping into the plot a bit more. Sorry this chapter's so long, but I hope you enjoy it, I'm having a fun time writing it! Here's chapter two for ya.  
  
CHAPTER TWO  
  
DARRELL CURTIS' POINT OF VIEW  
  
"Hey," she purred, her voice rippling like velvet. I managed to say, "Hello," back to her. "So, you any good at skiing?"  
  
"I try to," she replied. Her voice was akin to a stupider Betty Boop. She then offered her hand, "Earlene. Earlene Summers."  
  
"Darrel, but everyone calls me Darry."  
  
"Oh, how cute!" she giggled inanely, smacking her gum. "So, you got a car or something?"  
  
I looked at her strangely. Earlene was wearing very little considering the fact we were at a ski lodge. I replied, "Uh.a truck."  
  
"Oh." she said snootily. "So your daddy doesn't buy you stuff? My daddy buys me everything. Daddy even bought me this new outfit, it's by Mary Quant. All the way from.wait, what is it? That one huge chunk of land, what's it called? UK I think."  
  
"England?" I replied.  
  
"Yeah! That's it! I was going to say Australia. How'd you know?" she asked. I rolled my eyes. She just HAD to be kidding. "Mary Quant. Ain't that quaint? Hey, it rhymes!" She burst into hysterical giggling and continued to chew on her gum.  
  
"My father's dead," I replied plainly. I was very close to my father. Many used to think we were brothers. I still missed my parents at times. I was looking around the room, hoping for someone to rescue me. Why had Rich dragged me along?  
  
"Oh, that sucks. You don't get any free stuff," Earlene shrugged, seeing logic in her statement. "Well, I guess a truck will do. C'mon, let's go!" And then she took my hand and started to drag me off.  
  
"What?" I asked.  
  
"What?" she reiterated like a parakeet.  
  
I shook my hand from her grip. Earlene continued, "So, how much do you make?"  
  
"I work as a construction worker."  
  
"Oh." Earlene replied. It was her turn to be disgusted. "I didn't know Rich knew any poor people. I.better.go. Right." And then she hurried off to Rich's Swedish friend who had more muscles then brain cells. In moments the two had left for a quieter place.  
  
"Hey, Darrel? You there?" I suddenly snapped out of last Thursday's memory. I had gone on a ski trip at the urging of my friend from high school, Rich. While there, I felt incredibly uncomfortable. The only two people I could really associate with were Rich and his girlfriend, and even that was strained at points. When most found out about my money situation they gave an exiting performance similar to Earlene Summers'.  
  
I turned to face my boss. He was a crabby, balding New Yorker with bad body odor and even worse manners. I didn't like him too much, but he paid me and if that was enough to put food on the table then it was fine with me.  
  
"Curtis, I ain't payin' you to stand around and stare at the pretty broads walking down the street. I pay you to roof houses. So get to work!" Spittle sprayed from his bottomless black hole of a mouth onto my face. I waited for him to turn around before I wiped the spit off of my face. It wasn't two seconds later until the other construction workers started whistling and making rude comments at two high school girls walking down the street to go eat lunch off campus. From the way they carried themselves and the way they dressed they were Socs. One was a cute brunette while they other was a gorgeous blonde.  
  
"Hey, chickies, come over and give me some white sugar!" shouted the boss. The brunette giggled at it, while the blonde put her hands on her hips and pouted.  
  
"That's disgusting!" she said to the other construction men.  
  
"Yeah, I just wish you were as dirty as my car," my boss said, jabbing a thumb back at the most dirtiest car I had ever seen. Even Two-Bit kept his car cleaner, and he was the biggest slob I'd ever met.  
  
The blonde curled her lip and began to walk past the construction workers, but they continued to make rude comments. She just held her head up and walked off, dragging her brunette friend with her.  
  
"Pretty rank." I looked over my shoulder to see Crick. He's a Hispanic, a bit older then me. Nice guy but has no idea what he wants to do with the rest of his life and probably didn't have much of a future. I could usually see him getting high behind the garbage disposals on a Friday night.  
  
"Yeah," I agreed.  
  
Crick picked up his hard hat and tin lunchbox, "Hey, I'm gonna skip out early for lunch. Wanna come?" I looked around and saw the rest of the construction workers crowded around the wired fence, now making rude comments at an older black woman. I shrugged and grabbed my hard hat and paper bag, "Sure." So we started walking out of the work area, leaping over the fence and walking into the parking lot.  
  
"Kat should be here any minute," Crick said, waiting patiently.  
  
"Who's Kat?" I asked. I soon found out. Immediately, this beat-up Impala burst into the parking lot, burning rubber as it tipped on its side. The Impala pulled up right next to us. In the front seat was a tough looking Hispanic woman I'd have to assume was related to Crick. She had red-streaked black hair that flowed a little past her shoulders. She was wearing blue jeans and a white tank top and absolutely no make-up. In an odd way, she was quite attractive to look at, nice firm body with a defiant look. The driver tossed her hair as she hopped out of the car. Like a giggling schoolgirl she ran up to Crick and threw her arms around him, laughing merrily.  
  
"That is Kat," Crick said, wearing his idiotic grin. "Kat, this is my co-worker Darry Curtis. Darry, this is my kid sister Kat."  
  
"Damn straight," Kat said. She offered me her hand and so I shook hers. I had to confess, she was really nice to look at, especially when she smiled.  
  
"You comin' to eat with us guys?" asked Crick teasingly. Kat shook her head, her wavy black hair tossing in the air.  
  
"Nope. I just wanted to drop your hot girlfriend Carlene here off," she said sarcastically, patting the Impala, "but I could use a ride home."  
  
"Ah, come on Kat, you too, Darry," Crick said. The three of us hopped into the Impala, with Kat in between us. She had the radio cranked up and was chewing gum, looking out at Tulsa. We passed by the local 7- 11, which had been broken into last night. Across the street was Mike's Bake Shop. Crick pulled in, murmuring a, "I'm gonna go buy some donuts," before hurrying off. Two police officers were standing nearby, shaking their heads.  
  
"Man, they sure beat that guy down," the first cop said, fiddling with his greasy mustache.  
  
"Yeah, blood everywhere," the second cop said, who from his gray hair was in his 50's. "Boy, I wish that Dallas Winston was still around so we could blame him for everything that went wrong."  
  
"Those were the days," the first cop replied, nodding his head in nostalgic admiration.  
  
"C'mon, Bennet, I'll buy you some coffee," the second said.  
  
The first asked, "OK. What about the 7-11?"  
  
"Aw, just hall Shepard and his gang down. We gotta pin it on somebody."  
  
"You sure are smart, Dogberry." The two cops began to stroll back to their car. Mentioning Dally's name was getting easier to hear. He'd been dead for a couple months now, him and Johnny, but it still stung. I didn't get nightmares about it like Pony did. I worry about that kid.  
  
"So, you work with my older brother?" asked Kat. She had now unwrapped a jawbreaker and popped it into her mouth.  
  
I nodded, "Yeah, Crick works for me. He puts in an effort." Frankly, Crick was kind of a slacker, but how was I supposed to tell that to his kid sister?  
  
Kat shrugged and then nodded, "That's a switch. Nobody in our family really works 'cept my stepdad and my other older brother, Paul."  
  
"Your father died?" I asked. No one around here had a stepparent unless if one spouse died.  
  
Kat shook her head, "Nope. Divorced, my dad's switches back and forth from owning a gas station and being a truck driver, he's living in Albuquerque last time I talked to him."  
  
"Really?"  
  
She nodded again, "Yep." Kat turned to face me, "So what about you, Superman? What's your deal?"  
  
"My parents died in a car crash," I said softly. I was very close to my father. Before he died people used to comment on us, saying we looked like brothers. I sometimes still wake up in the middle of the night, panting heavily. I wanted more then anything for them to come back, and I wanted to sob like my brothers at their funeral, but I couldn't. I had to be strong, the eldest brother, the one in charge. So I just stood there, lost in thought, hands in my pockets, staring down at their graves, while Pony and Soda sobbed. I wished I could've done something. Would it have even mattered?  
  
I forgot that Kat had been sitting there next to me. I couldn't remember how long I was sitting there. Afraid that Kat might have read the mixed emotions on my face, I mustered up the strength to hide them. From the knowing look in Kat's dark green eyes, I think she knew.  
  
Crick ambled back into the front seat, baring an alcoholic bottle and tossing the donut bag to Kat and I, "Jesus Christ, how long does a cashier have to check an ID?"  
  
"Aw, don't feel sorry for good ol' Crick," Kat teased jokingly. Crick playfully attempted to smack her on the head, but she ducked, laughing. Even I had to grin a bit. Crick started the car up again (after having it sputter and nearly die) and started driving towards Kat's place. The two of us didn't say anything, though occasionally I would sneak a glance at her and she'd sneak one at me. We'd both catch one another's eye and then immediately turn back to face the road, blushing slightly. I don't know how long that game lasted, but it seemed like only seconds before I heard Crick say, "Well, here you go, kid sis."  
  
"Thanks for the donuts, bro. Nice meeting you, Darrel," Kat said, stepping out of the car. I took a look to see where she was living. The neighborhood looked rundown and unkempt, with it's broken roofs and overflowing gutters. There was a long, thin staircase climbing up the wall like roses.  
  
"Better wait for her to get up to her floor," Crick murmured. "Never know what could happen in this side of town." I could barely hear him, but I too wanted to make sure she was safe. I finally couldn't contain myself any longer. I bolted out of the car and up the stairs after her, leaving Crick with a puzzled look on his brow, wondering what was going on. I reached her door and knocked on it. She opened the door and seemed a bit surprised to see me, but glad at the same time.  
  
"Um, this is going to sound real stupid since I just met you but, sometime maybe we can have a bite to eat?"  
  
She smiled and said, "I thought you'd never ask. Here." Kat looked around and tore off a piece of newspaper and took a pen. She jotted something down and handed it to me. "My number. That'd be great to see you again."  
  
"Really?" I said. "I mean, sure. I'll call." Kat gave me one last beautiful smile before closing the door. I wanted to jump for joy as I headed back to Crick's car.  
  
SODAPOP'S POINT OF VIEW  
  
It had to be one of the hottest days of the year. No one was safe from the intense heat bearing down on Tulsa. Me and Steve had broken open a fire hydrant, and now everyone down at the DX was flocking to it. 'cept me and Anya. We were just happy lying in Darry's truck. When she'd slip out of high school and stop by we'd sit in his truck talking for as long as possible. I loved to hear the sound of her voice. I was leaning my head on her tanned legs, while she was running her long fingers through my hair.  
  
"Hey, baby, you're ruining my grease," I joked. Anya laughed softly. I propped myself up on my elbows and gazed up into her face. She always looked so beautiful, even if she wore too much eye make-up and had car grease on her cheeks. But very sad at the same time, and it hurt me to see her like that.  
  
"Anya, what's wrong?" I asked.  
  
She shrugged and looked away. Anya then turned her gaze back to mine, "Soda, do you love me?" I was appalled she'd asked that. I loved her more then I loved anyone else sometimes. Sometimes I would sit up late at night just thinking about her wistful brown eyes.  
  
"Of course I do," I said indignantly. "Why would you ever think I didn't?"  
  
"What about Sandy?" she asked softly. I paused for a moment. Sandy was my ex-girlfriend. She had left the same week Ponyboy and Johnny had run off. Gone for Florida. When I'd send her letters, I'd only received them back, unopened. That week had been pure hell. A searing pain shot through my spine to my forehead.  
  
"Are you okay," asked Anya. She sounded generally concerned, and must've seen the dark look that had grown in my eyes. "Look, I just heard Sandy.she's coming back."  
  
"What?!" I asked, shocked. I didn't want to see Sandy, not after what she had done.  
  
"She called Evie and I the other day," continued Anya, looking guilty. I could've died right there. Why was Anya feeling guilty for my problems? And then her voice, so soft I could barely hear it, creaked, "Are you going to leave me for her?"  
  
"No, of course not, baby," I told her. Again, I was shocked that she'd ask that. "Why would you ask?"  
  
"Because." she began. Her face was contorted, trying to find the right word to fit her thoughts, "because Steve told me about how much you loved Sandy and I was Sandy's friend and all.and, well, I kinda felt like you only dated me 'cuz Sandy wasn't here-"  
  
"Look, stop right there," I told her. I took her hand and held it to my face, "Anya, I love you for more reasons then I even care to mention, and you know that."  
  
"I know," she confessed, nodding. She kissed me softly on the lips. Words can't describe the way I feel when I kiss her. I gazed up into her face, the face of an angel that had been brought to me for a reason.  
  
"You have to get back soon," I told her.  
  
Anya shook her head, her dark blonde mane catching the light, "I don't think Mr. Finney will miss me too much if I don't show up for World History."  
  
"I mean it, Marilyn," I told her. I call her Marilyn 'cuz Anya always wanted to be a movie star, lighting the silver screen up with her sweet girl-next-door personality. I wasn't too fond of movies, they took too much time and I can't sit through them, but I'd go and see them if she was starring. "You still have two years of high school to get through, just 'cuz graduation's coming up."  
  
"I know, you're right," agreed Anya, reluctantly giving in. "I just don't want to leave." I nodded, and then hopped out of Darry's truck. I helped her out and swung her around, the two of us laughing, as if we were in some sort of other world. I set her down and headed back to the refreshments station. Steve was fixing some middleclass man's car up. Anya walked over and began to bother her cousin. I gazed up and saw Anya tickling Steve, the two laughing hysterically. I had to smile. Steve was always so angry, usually over his abusive parents, but when he was with his cousin he seemed like he was actually happy, alive. There were no customers nearby, so I ran over and decided to join in.  
  
PONYBOY'S POINT OF VIEW  
  
No greasers actually eat lunch in the cafeteria, so me and Two-Bit, like most students at Tulsa High School, skipped out to eat lunch over at the DX, where my brother Sodapop and his pal Steve worked. We were broke, but I figured we could pawn some money off of Soda.  
  
"Hey hey, if it's ain't Soda's chickadee, huh?" asked Two-Bit, popping a cigarette into his mouth from his back pocket and striking a match.  
  
Anya smiled sweetly, "Wow, Two-Bit, that's a pretty big word for you to know."  
  
"Yeah," replied Two-Bit sarcastically, "that's what you get when you pay attention in class." He blew a perfect smoke ring that fluttered up into the sky.  
  
"Hey, look, Two-Bit, it's Mickey," Steve said, pointing to the mini TV in the refreshments station. Two-Bit was the type of person that was easily amused, so just flip on Mickey Mouse and give him a beer and chocolate cake and he'd be in heaven. Satisfied that his idol was on, Two-Bit sauntered in. Steve was his usual angry self. Apparently he and Anya had moved back into Steve's folks' house. There were rare times when Steve wasn't angry, mostly when he was around Anya or Evie or the gang. Soda explained to me that Anya was more like Steve's kid sister then his cousin; they stuck together.  
  
"Hey, Ponyboy, what's up?" asked Anya, ruffling my hair. We'd kid around a lot, Anya and me, since we're in the same grade and all. I saw the look in Soda's eyes whenever he was around her; it was love, real love. That's something you didn't see too often in our 'hood.  
  
"Aw, I'm just skippin' out," I told her.  
  
Anya nodded, "Yeah, we got that test in Biology."  
  
"Mind if I copy yours?"  
  
"Ponyboy!" said Soda. He walked over and wrapped an arm around Anya. She giggled while Soda said, "You know what Darry would say."  
  
"Yeah, I know," I told him. I looked to Steve, "Hey, where's Evie?"  
  
"She's visiting relatives in Oklahoma City," grumbled Steve. "She'll be back by graduation." I followed Anya, Soda and Steve into the refreshments station. Anya was now wearing Soda's DX hat and was whispering something into his ear. Two-Bit was lounging on the floor, the TV propped on his belly, drinking a Pepsi and eating potato chips.  
  
"Didja ever wonder if Minnie has a sister?" asked Two-Bit lazily.  
  
"Why, thinkin' of asking her out?" I asked.  
  
Two-Bit pointed at me with the hand holding the Pepsi, "Hey, kiddo, I don't see you picking up any girls."  
  
"I know some friends I could hook you up with," Anya said. "Sure, they're in the eighth grade but I don't think that's too much of an age gap." I tuned her out, because just then a bevy of Socy girls entered the store, two of them being Sarah and Gloria, the two girls that had robbed the 7-11 store last night. The other three were just random cheerleaders, prissy and snobby and their worst quality, vain. Sarah had her hair pinned up and was wearing little make-up. Her friend, Gloria, went off with the rest of the girls to the bubble gum aisle. Sarah and I met eyes, and she gave me a quick smile before joining them.  
  
"Ladies, can we help you?" asked Soda.  
  
One of the cheerleaders giggled, "Ooh, it's Sodapop-"  
  
"Who's Soda?" whispered the other.  
  
"The cute one!" the last said.  
  
"No thanks, just looking for bubble gum," answered Sarah. She then looked directly at me and said, "Though I could use some help finding the candy bars."  
  
"They're in." Soda began. He then picked up on the notion that Sarah was looking directly at me and quickly recovered, saying, "Ponyboy here can you help you." Glad I had an excuse to talk to her, I walked into the back aisle to talk to her.  
  
"So, how's everything, Pony?" Sarah asked.  
  
"Pretty good, you?" I asked.  
  
She nodded, "Same here. Graduation's coming up pretty soon."  
  
"We're only sophomores," I replied. She looked like she was going to say something, but Steve beat her to it, "Hey, guys, hear about 7-11?" Immediately Sarah stiffened. She bit her lip and didn't bother to brush her feathery white-blonde bangs out of her face. Gloria, on the other hand, seemed too busy fighting with one of the other cheerleaders over which one of the Beatles was cutest.  
  
"Yeah, poor Larry," said Anya sympathetically. Soda pulled her into a tight embrace. Two-Bit sipped some Pepsi and then commented, "Yeah, I'm thinking of goin' down and visiting the poor guy." I looked to Sarah. She was now staring at the ground, finding her expensive high heels incredibly fascinating.  
  
"I'm sorry," she whispered.  
  
I nodded, "It's gonna be ok."  
  
"No, it's not," murmured Sarah. "It's never going to be alright." It was then, of all times, things grew worse. Gloria looked out the window and hurried over to Sarah.  
  
"Sarah, we got a problem," she said in a hushed tone, "Thunderbird, dead ahead." Sarah looked up, and saw what Gloria had pointed out.  
  
"I don't see what's the big deal," one of the cheerleaders said in a whiny tone. "I mean, nearly every girl wishes they had Spike and Chris has beaus-"  
  
"Shut up, Adrienne," snapped Sarah and Gloria in unison. The cheerleader, Adrienne, huffed and pouted, arms crossed across her plunging neckline. Spike and Chris hopped out of the Thunderbird, followed by three other Socy jocks. The three cheerleaders screamed ecstatically, rushing up and attacking their boyfriends. Spike kicked open the door and sauntered in, followed by Chris. The other Socs watched from outside.  
  
"Hey baby, c'mon," said Spike. His hand reached for Sarah's posterior, but she smacked it away. "Ow, bitch, what the hell was that for?!"  
  
"That was for everything you've done to me!" shouted Sarah. Spike looked at his hand, red from the pain. "Spike, you're graduating from high school on Wednesday, does that mean anything to you?"  
  
"Keg parties?" he asked. I watched in silence as the two locked eyes. Sarah was appalled, while Spike grew defensive, "What? What was that supposed to mean, anyway?"  
  
"Spike, that means you're going out into the world, actually going to do something. If you haven't noticed yet, high school ends."  
  
"So?" replied Spike. "What's that got to do with it?"  
  
"Plenty, Spike!" Sarah shouted, laughing at his stupidity, "plenty. That's why I'm breaking up with you."  
  
"Wha-what?!" spat Spike. The other cheerleaders gasped in horror, and one of them fainted. He suddenly noticed I was there, and then grabbed me by the shirt. He pushed me into the side of the store. Dull pain shot through my body. Gloria gasped, and even Chris seemed a bit uneasy. Soda and Steve jumped to my defense.  
  
"Don't touch him!" snapped Sarah. She was about to bend down to be at my side, but Spike grabbed her firmly by the arm.  
  
"Is this what this is about? Huh, Sarah? That you've been two-timing me for this little punk?!" He kicked me in the stomach. I suddenly felt my stomach lurch, and I thought I was going to vomit. I hated Spike, I hated Spike for nearly killing Larry, I hated Spike for the way he treated Sarah, and I hated Spike for being a no good Socy bastard.  
  
Oddly enough, Steve jumped to my defense. He punched Spike, right in the face. Spike reeled back, crashing into the aisle, but tried to keep his balance. Sarah grabbed him by the shirt before he could throw a fist at either Soda or Steve. Two-Bit, Anya and Gloria watched in horror. Chris and the other Socs took a perverse pleasure in this.  
  
"No, Spike, this has nothing to do with Ponyboy," snapped Sarah. Her face was flushed red, and her voice was growing louder. "This has to do with that I'm tired of the way you're treating me. I'm tired of having to drive you home because you're too drunk you wouldn't even know if you got mugged. I'm tired of having a boyfriend who the highlight of his life is getting high and looking down at strippers' cleavage!"  
  
"You found out about Kitty Katz?" asked Spike.  
  
"Dear God, it's not about that!" shouted Sarah. She was on the verge of tears. "It's over, Spike." She then stormed out of the DX station. Gloria looked to an amused Chris and smacked him in the stomach before storming off. I wanted to go too and see how she was doing, but Spike just pointed a warning finger at me, saying, "Don't think this is over, grease," before turning to Chris and the rest of his Socy posse, "C'mon, let's go." The Socs all left while the rest of us glared as their Thunderbird sped off. 


	3. Chapter Three

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Wow, you like me! You really like me! Just kidding, but thank you guys (SodasGurl, Sammie, TimeTravllr) for the great reviews. I'm really glad that you're liking the story so far. Anyway, if you have any ideas they are greatly appreciated in the review section and here is the next chapter, sorry it's so long again but hope you guys enjoy it!  
  
CHAPTER THREE  
  
DARRY  
  
Everyone else enjoyed Saturdays but me. Work was long and tedious, especially since we were roofing for a cranky, hard of hearing old woman named Mrs. Reynolds who demanded it be done by lunch. Luckily, I managed to pick up the pace and we finished, though we worked through most of our lunch break. I placed a quarter into the first pay phone I found and called home. Soda and Steve were already at the DX, while Ponyboy and Two-Bit were just on their way out. I needed to know that I wouldn't come home to a trashed house.  
  
After I hung up the phone, I decided to see what Kat was up to. I dialed her number and waited until I heard a voice, "Hello?"  
  
"Hello, is this Kat?"  
  
"Yes sir, it is, can I help you?" asked Kat. I heard soft crying in the background but I didn't pay too much attention to it.  
  
"Hey, Kat, it's me, Darry."  
  
"Oh, hi, Darry," Kat said. Her voice lifted and she sounded pleasantly surprised to see me. "What's happening?"  
  
"Nothing really, just got off work," I told her. I mustered up my nerves, "Um, I was wondering if I could see you.maybe today?"  
  
"Oh." paused Kat, thinking it over. Then she said brightly, "Okay! I just need to drop off my clothes at the Laundromat, can you pick me up, because Crick drove his Impala to work today and I only drive if I have his car."  
  
"Sure," I said eagerly. "I'll pick you up soon, okay?"  
  
"Great, see you soon," Kat said. We hung up immediately thereafter. I treaded off to my truck and hopped in, driving at a normal pace. I felt my hands grow clammy.  
  
Get a grip, Darry, I thought to myself. She's just Crick's sister. I rolled up the windows to my truck as I approached her neighborhood. I saw lanky teenagers, younger then Ponyboy, with blades and chains, lounging on the bench looking hungrily at prepubescent girls, laughing and giggling as they braided their hair. I hurried up the stairs to her apartment and knocked on the door.  
  
I was surprised to see who answered it. She was a little girl, with dark brown hair and brandy colored eyes. Roughly guessing, the girl looked about two, and had her fingers in her mouth.  
  
"Cloud, how many times do I have to tell you to stay inside when the door knocks--" It was Kat's voice, and she hurried over to the front door. She smiled when she saw me, "Hi, Darrell. Just a moment." Turning to a present and younger teenage Hispanic female, she handed a crisp five-dollar bill, saying, "This is all I can really afford, Corazon. If you have any problems, Ms. Lopez is just downstairs."  
  
"That's okay. This money, it's fine with me, just have fun!" she said cheerfully. The younger girl closed the door and I escorted Kat down the stairs. She was carrying a basket of clothes and had curlers in her hair.  
  
"Hey, I'm sorry, this'll be quick," gushed Kat, referring to the dirty laundry.  
  
I shrugged nonchalantly, "No problem." Her pink polo was just short enough to see the navel tattoo of a crescent moon. Despite the fact she looked relatively poor, she carried herself like a normal woman.  
  
"Here, the Laundromat isn't too far from here," Kat told me. I was fine with the fact she needed to drop off clothes. We walked the streets, and she completely ignored the calls of some hoods. They looked like they were part of the Brumly outfit, but I could never be sure. They seemed to know her as well, because they were referring to her by name. I held open the door for her as she hurried into the Laundromat. She slipped in four quarters and then dumped her laundry in.  
  
"Okay, have that done," said Kat, wiping her hands and taking the curlers out of her hair so it could blow in the wind. We didn't have much time to talk, for just then Kat gasped, "Oh God, hide me." She immediately put on shades and clutched my arm. I looked up to see who was there. A slouching, angry looking Hispanic man strode over. His hair was heavily greased, his nose looked like it had been broken and he had a nasty looking scar. He was wearing a white bandana and brandishing a knife.  
  
"Well, well, well, if it ain't the lovely Miss Noriega," the hood snickered. "How's my baby girl doing."  
  
"Stay away from me, Julio," Kat hushed.  
  
Julio glided closer, "I don't think so, Katerina. How's my little angel doing, huh?"  
  
"The court was final, Julio, now scram!"  
  
"I don't think so--"  
  
I stepped in, "You heard her. Get out."  
  
Julio looked to me and then Kat. He was bulky, nonetheless, but still couldn't beat me, and I think he got the idea he couldn't win. Julio smirked, "Is this your new lover, huh? Have you told him?"  
  
"Leave me alone, Julio," cursed Kat. Julio was about to step closer but I grabbed his arm, and firmly said, "Go." Julio glared at me, and then at Kat, and sauntered off, muttering curses under his breath. I turned to face Kat, and she looked like she was about to cry. Her bottom lip was quivering, her entire body was shaking and her gaze did not leave the direction Julio had gone.  
  
"It's okay, he's gone," I told her. Then she did something rather strange. She threw her arms around my neck. I could feel her body shaking, but she was not sobbing. I held her there for what seemed like eternity, brushing her black hair and comforting her. Kat wiped off tear trails from her face and we started walking, the rest of the time was spent in silence. Eventually, we found a picnic table beside an old willow tree, and she sat down to rest her feet.  
  
"So, I bet you're wondering what he meant," Kat said quietly, speaking for the first time. I sat down beside her, "That's up to you."  
  
She paused, and then continued, "If you haven't figured out by now, the girl you met at the door, Cloud, she's my daughter. And Julio.Julio's her father." I thought for a moment. Cloud was a beautiful little girl; it was a shock that Julio had fathered her. What was even more of a shock was the age Kat had her at.  
  
"When did you have her?" I asked.  
  
Kat swallowed a lump in her throat, "I was eighteen. Cloud's two years old, if you're wondering about that. She's my little angel, really. As for Julio, you're probably wondering what I ever saw in him--"  
  
"Not particularly, that's none of my business," I told her plainly. She looked up at me, and smiled slightly.  
  
Kat ran a hand through her hair and looked off, "I don't know, I was eighteen, Julio and I had been dating for months. It was my first time and I thought I was ready.and then I realized I wasn't. I told him it, and he just blew a fuse, started swearing and trashing the place.  
  
"I couldn't have a bum like Julio raising my daughter," Kat told me, pleading. "I had no money, no idea what I was supposed to do, and I was pregnant. I told Julio he should send child support. To this day he still hasn't. So I took it to court and they took away his custody. Not that it was anymore then just a title," Kat paused, gazing off into the distance. I was shocked, but not angry. The fact she was managing to raise a little child and still live life was amazing. I mean, I was raising Ponyboy and Soda on a high school education alone, but they were in their teens when Mom and Dad died.  
  
"If it means anything to you, I've been raising my two kid brothers for about a couple years now," I told her. She looked up at me, appraising my words to see if I was lying to her. She then leaned back and looked on, "So I guess this is the end, huh?"  
  
I glanced over to her, and then leaned closer. I felt myself drawn to her lips, and kissed her softly. Kat did not fight, but reciprocated and kissed me back. When it ended I looked back into her eyes and nodded slightly, "Is that a good enough answer?"  
  
Kat flashed me a grin, "It'll do."  
  
SODA  
  
Little do officials know what goes on Saturday afternoons amongst us teenagers. Me, Steve, Anya, Two-Bit and Pony merrily strolled down to the Slash J. Two-Bit was laughing at a bevy of nicely dressed middle class girls, and Steve swore them out. Anya and I walked arm and arm down the street, attempting to stay behind from the others but not succeeding at all.  
  
"Whadya know, Stevie, Soda's got a girl," kidded Two-Bit, pretending to just realize that me and Anya were together.  
  
Steve mockingly glared at me, "She better be home by ten, Sodapop Curtis, or I'll call the cops." Ponyboy laughed and Anya blushed slightly, playfully shoving him.  
  
"Aw, lay off, Stevie, the boy's in love," Two-Bit said. I couldn't deny that. He burst into singsong lyrics, "Soda's got a girlfriend."  
  
"If you two don't stop, I'll knock both your heads together," I said, trying to sound serious. I failed miserably. I just can't be serious. So I started to laugh and chase after Steve. I wrestled him to the ground, with Anya laughing as she came to join us as well. Two- Bit and Ponyboy were right there with us.  
  
"You lose!" shouted Steve, managing to snag me in a headlock. He let go and we all laughed joyously. I started to pant from laughing so hard. Anya's hair, which she had worked hard to make look nice, was tousled by now.  
  
"You just be a good boy to my country cousin," Steve said lovingly, lightly hitting on Anya the arm, "'cuz if you don't I'm gonna come after ya."  
  
Anya smiled coyly, "Does that mean I get to come after you if Evie ever broke your little heart?"  
  
"Don't get your hopes up," snickered Steve. We all resumed walking to the Slash J. The Slash J was probably one of the favorite places for a teenager in Tulsa to go; there was car racing, rodeo, barrel racing, and various other illegal organized games. Being illegal made it even more fun to go.  
  
We kept walking until we met Tallulah Beckett at the register. Tallulah was one of our kind, greaser, and Two-Bit's occasional girlfriend. She giggled, "Hey Two-Bit, how's it going?"  
  
"Pretty good, sister, how about you?"  
  
"Better now that you're here," she smiled seductively. "I'll let you guys in for free." Tallulah waved us in but held Two-Bit back. I had an idea that they were going to slip out, but I wasn't going to say anything. The rest of us, Steve, Anya, me and Pony kept strolling by. I wanted to do rodeo, but Dad had made me quit when I tore a ligament. I'd always wanted a horse though, ever since Mickey Mouse, my old horse that I used to train, got bought by some rich stiffs. I sighed.  
  
"Hey, I'm going to get some Pepsi, all right?" Anya told me. I nodded, "Sure, be back soon though."  
  
"And don't talk to anyone," Steve shouted at her as she skipped off. He always got real protective over Anya. He looked to see me and Pony grinning, "What?"  
  
"You're sounding more and more like Darry every day," Ponyboy said, beating me to the punch. Steve lunged at him playfully and tackled him to the ground. It was nice to see they were getting along better. I turned to see three girls slithering towards us. They were Socs, but from the way they acted they could have given the grease girls a run for their money. I remember seeing them at the DX not too long ago, when that Soc and his girlfriend that I'd met at the Prom gave Ponyboy a hard time.  
  
The first cheerleader, a good-looking girl with long platinum blonde hair named Adrienne, spoke first, "Hey, it's those cute greasers at the DX!"  
  
"Dibs on the one with red-gold hair," the second one, a short girl named Trista, proclaimed.  
  
"No fair," whined the last, Marguerite, "that was going to be my pick."  
  
"Whadya want, sweet little girls?" Steve asked. Pony and I tried to look tough and scare them off, but they did not look like they were prepared to leave. In fact, they seemed very comfortable with us, and in fact crept closer. Adrienne gazed into my eyes while Trista and Marguerite splintered off to Steve and Ponyboy.  
  
"C'mon, greaser, aren't I not irresistible?!" asked Adrienne, licking her full lips. Trista hurriedly put on lipstick and did the same to Steve.  
  
"At the moment, since you're standing on my foot, I guess I can't resist you," I told her. Adrienne glanced to see if what I had said was true and then clumsily said, "Oops." Adrienne then flipped her hair and looked back at me, leaning closer, "Now, where were we."  
  
"Adrienne?!"  
  
"Trista?!"  
  
"What the hell are you doing?!" Adrienne's eyes grew large, and so did the other two cheerleaders', and they all turned on their heels to see who had spoken. As if to make the event even worse, the two male Socs we met the other day at the Prom, Spike and Chris, followed by another unknown male follower, swaggered over. Spike grabbed Adrienne while Chris and the other Soc, David, took Trista and Marguerite. They seemed to have gotten over their two good lookin' ex-girlfriends, Sarah and Gloria, quite quickly. Ponyboy's eyes grew large when he saw Spike.  
  
"What are you doin', hangin' around trash like them?!" demanded Spike. He recognized Ponyboy and pointed a warning finger at him, "It's that kid, the punk that was scammin' on my broad!"  
  
"It was all their fault!" shouted Adrienne, pointing to the three of us. She noticed a crowd had begun to gather and began to speak as if she was dying in a bad B movie melodrama, "They forced themselves upon us! It was them, Spikey, all their fault, we had no choice in the matter!"  
  
"Oh really?" asked Spike, cracking his knuckles and tossing his cigarette butt, "we'll just have to solve this." Like the moronic lummox he was, he swaggered over, fully prepared to beat up Ponyboy. I couldn't let him beat up my kid brother, so I stepped in front of him.  
  
"Whadya want, grease?" shouted Spike.  
  
"You got a problem with my kid brother, you deal with me," I told him sternly, staring him directly in the eye.  
  
Spike glared, "All right, how about this.we settle this in a car race. You win, we let it drop. We win, I get to beat the living shit out of all three of ya." Just then, a worried looking Anya and Two-Bit hurried over to side with us. I knew that he would never hold his side of the bargain up, but just to see him humiliated.it would be just too rich to pass up. I looked to Steve, and he nodded.  
  
"Deal," I said.  
  
To make it an official deal, Spike shoved me for good measure, "Meet me on Pickett and Sutton, if you think you can win." Spike laughed and then he, his girlfriends and his buddies hurried off.  
  
"I'm gonna need to borrow someone's car," I said to Steve.  
  
Anya hurried up beside me, grabbing my arm, "Soda, I need to tell you something-"  
  
"Not now," I told her. I hated brushing her off to the side, but right now me and Steve needed to find a car that would go pretty damn fast.  
  
"The girl's gotta say somethin-" began Two-Bit. But I couldn't hear him over the uproar of the crowd. After Steve threatened to beat the hell out of a weak looking Soc, a car donation was made to our cause. It was a fast little baby, nice little sports car. I drove the car up to Pickett and Sutton, where Spike had already arranged a nice little crowd. I needed to win this fight simply to annoy the hell out of Spike.  
  
"Soda, listen to me," pleaded Anya. I turned to her and kissed her passionately on the lips. She didn't seem to mind, but something was bothering her.  
  
"Anya, baby, I'm real sorry, but the race is starting-"  
  
"It's not about the race--" insisted Anya. I couldn't say anything more, so I stepped into the car. Spike had already accepted cheers from his pals and girlfriends, and glared over at me, before flipping me the Bird. I ignored him, and start to focus mostly on the yells from some judge, older then all of us, who basically told us that we had to go around the block, that the race ended back where it started and to play nice. Like that would ever happen. I looked over to see a worried-looking Anya, a smug Steve and Two-Bit closing the betting pool. I sighed and Steve gave me the thumbs up. I heard the gun shot and the race started.  
  
I pressed my foot down firmly on the accelerator. I felt a heavy crash, and looked to see Spike, who was ramming his car into mine. He pushed me off the track and onto the street, where pedestrians fled from my out of control car. I swerved to the left and back onto the road, although slightly behind Spike. My adrenaline was pumping, I needed to catch up. I sped up slightly ahead of Spike, and then when the lanes became narrow I edged him out. Directly in front of him was a fountain, and he crashed into it.  
  
By now I was far in the lead. Spike's crash had given me that few second edge that I needed. I looked over my shoulder to see if he was still chasing after me. Yep, he was, but we now had the attention of the fuzz, who were speeding to catch up to us.  
  
I managed to avoid destroying a bench, but sent the pigeons and homeless birdfeeders spiraling out of the way. I could now see the finish line. But there was a new addition to the crowd. Standing there, blonde hair, china blue eyes, very tall.Sandy. I couldn't take my eyes off her. Sandy was standing there, right there! She hadn't bothered to talk to me since Johnny and Dally had died, and now there she was. It was just a brief glimpse, for she had disappeared into the crowd, but I knew for a definite that I had seen her.  
  
I went over the finish line and into the garbage bins at the end. Two- Bit laughed confidently as he made the betters that had lost pay up. Steve and Anya hurried over, now smiling and laughing.  
  
"We whooped 'em, Sodapop, we really whooped 'em!" shouted Steve. But I didn't hear his voice, for I was still searching the crowd for the now-missing Sandy.  
  
PONY  
  
I never meant for it to happen. Really. The fighting, Spike, all of it. That's why I'm out cruising in a car I managed to borrow with Sarah van Pelt while Soda's whooping Spike's Socy ass. Very immature of me, but I at least stayed long enough to know that Soda was okay and had indeed won the race.  
  
After Soda and Spike had had their confrontation, I searched the crowd for a familiar face. Why was I letting Soda fight my battles? Because the grudge me and Spike had went beyond Sarah, that it was the same tale that had gotten Bob killed and Johnny and me out into the country.  
  
"Hey." I turned to see who it was. Sarah. Perfect timing. She was looking really cute though, with her hair pinned up and a plaid dress. Many a male Soc had thought she was talking to them, and was very disappointed that she was in fact talking to me.  
  
"Hey," I told her quietly, watching Soda, Steve, Anya and Two-Bit go in search of a car.  
  
Sarah sighed and looked like she was having a hard time saying what was on her mind, "Look, I'm sorry about Spike again, this has just blown way out of proportion--"  
  
"It ain't," I told her, staring into her olive green eyes. I turned away and blushed, "It's always been like this, if I had been a Soc I don't think Spike would've exactly given me a medal either."  
  
"It's not like that," Sarah said. We started to take a walk. "Spike's a jealous man, Ponyboy. I'm amazed he hasn't killed anybody yet."  
  
"This ain't the best place to be talking about stuff like this," I said.  
  
Sarah agreed and nodded, "We'll take my car." I looked around. Soda and Spike had already started the match. I asked myself a dozen questions as I followed her out of the Slash J. She walked over to her car, a tuff lookin' red Sting Ray, and she tossed the car keys to me.  
  
"There isn't going to be many cars on the road today," Sarah told me. "Let's see how well you can drive."  
  
I shrugged, "Sure." I tried to hide how excited I was. When Darry wasn't around to criticize me, Soda used to let me drive the truck around the block. "Where we headed?"  
  
"Didn't you mention something about wanting to see the country?"  
  
"Yeah.?"  
  
"I haven't been there yet, Windrixville sound fine?"  
  
"Sure." And that was the end of it. We hit the freeway (with surprisingly few problems) and then the long road out to Windrixville. I hadn't been to that town since.since Johnny and Dally died. I'd almost forgotten about what had happened, the church, everything. Sarah had cranked up the radio, pulled her hair out of its barrettes and had taken her high heels off, which she now waved about in her right hand as wind blew through our hair. I frankly was enjoying her presence, and was completely forgetting about time and the fact that I needed to go home at some point but just cruising around was too damn fun. The mood changed when we hit Windrixville.  
  
I stopped the car, and Sarah stopped laughing and grew real worried, "What's wrong, Ponyboy?" I stepped out of the Sting Ray and hit the road, with Sarah trailing behind me. I had an idea where I was going, but I wasn't paying attention to logic. When my feet stopped I knew exactly where I was. The church. It was nothing more then a mere ruin, a reminder of what it had once been. A temporary home for Johnny and me. Burned shambles, that was all it was now.  
  
"Pony?" asked Sarah. I'd forgotten she was there, and her voice seemed distant. "Pony, is this the church?"  
  
"Yeah," I said, nodding. "This is the church that killed Johnny." In a sense, it killed Dally too. I closed my eyes, and breathed in the smoke. The flames crept higher and higher. My eyes watered from the mixed combination of flame and smoke. I pulled the first kid and threw him out the opening. Saving him. That's what me and Johnny were doing. We saved the kids. The ones that had been out on a picnic, with their pre-school teachers, that's why they were there. Dally swearing at us, telling us to get back in the damn car but still following us. I jumped out of the building after the last kid was safe, but Johnny was still inside. I remember hearing Johnny scream as the burning church collapsed in, with Dally jumping in and saving him. He hit me so damn hard that I went unconscious. Why hadn't those kids been more careful? Why hadn't we been more careful?  
  
"Pony? Pony, are you okay, you look sick," said Sarah worriedly. I snapped out of it. That had been months now. Johnny had died a hero, while Dally had broken down, robbed a store and then crumpled under the street light. Like a Southern gentleman going off to fight the Civil War. Just like Johnny had described it. But no one except the cops noticed Dally's death. No one wrote editorials and news articles praising him for all that he had done for us. He was just another obituary.  
  
"I'm sorry, Sarah," I said, closing my eyes and swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat. "It's just being here, after everything that happened."  
  
Sarah put a hand on my shoulder and nodded, "Don't speak. I understand, Ponyboy." I looked in her olive green eyes as she gazed at the ashes of the church. They seemed to share in my sadness, as if she understood exactly what was going on.  
  
"Nothing gold can stay, Ponyboy."  
  
I looked at her surprised, "What?" Sarah cleared her throat and spoke. "Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay."  
  
When she had finished, Sarah looked over at me to see my awestruck reaction and then blushed heavily. I smiled slightly, "Robert Frost."  
  
"Yeah," she said meekly, "just something I picked up."  
  
I grinned even bigger then before, more then I had in a long time, "I know the feeling, Sarah." We then stared off into the sunset. 


	4. Chapter Four

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Wow, chapter four. Okay, I really like this chapter because it's (I think) packed with emotion and I had a fun time writing it (even though at the end it's kinda depressing). It shows varying degrees of character development (in my opinion). I have to thank SodasGurl, CuteCarly and TimeTravller (I got your name right!) for reviewing. At this point I'm beginning to run low on ideas, so if you think you can help me out, then just suggest something. Sorry it's so long. Thanks for reading, guys, and here's Chapter 4.  
  
CHAPTER FOUR  
  
PONY  
  
Dead meat, I thought. Darry's sure to have killed me by now. I checked my watch. 4 AM. Time wasn't exactly on my side. What was? Had it been my fault that Sarah and I had stopped at Dairy Queen before heading back to reality, where I'd dropped her off at her house and then fallen asleep in a vacant lot and not awaken until recently?  
  
This is too familiar, I thought. This had been the way everything had started, with Johnny killing the Soc and us running off with Dally's help then turning ourselves in and rescuing the kids and becoming local heroes and all. It wasn't gonna happen all over again. I remember my history teacher telling me those who don't learn about history are doomed to repeat it. I was probably the only one in the class listening though.  
  
I sneaked up to the porch, the old boards creaking. I knew I was probably gonna get stuck painting the porch again. Just like that kid in that one book that Mark Twain wrote, Tom Sawyer. The lights were on. Not a good sign. I sucked in a deep breath and opened the door.  
  
Boy, was I busted. Darry was sleeping in the armchair, his newspaper sprawled on the floor. Soda and Anya had fallen asleep on the couch, while Steve and Two-Bit were playing poker and drinking Heineken.  
  
"Man, this is the crappiest beer!" Two-Bit exclaimed before downing the rest of the bottle happily. He saw me and, probably since he was boozed and sleep deprived, grinned and said, "Hey Ponyboy." This awoke the sleeping Darry, who jumped to his feet.  
  
"Hey, Pony, mind telling me what time it is?" asked Darry sarcastically. I shrugged. What was the point? He wasn't going to wait for an answer anyway. "Four in the morning, bucko. I'm really looking forward to hear your excuse now."  
  
"Can it wait until tomorrow?" I asked. I had been in a good mood and I didn't want it to come crashing down, like it was doomed to be.  
  
"Nope," Darry told me, crossing his arms and looking parental and stern. "Pony, you gotta use your head about these situations. We've told you before; you've got a curfew of eleven. What do you not understand of that?"  
  
"I just went to Windrixville with Sarah van Pelt, alright?!" I exploded. I bit my tongue and wanted to smack myself. The room grew quiet. Everyone knew what happened in Windrixville, even Anya, who had arrived only a little bit later.  
  
"Windrixville?" asked Steve. Soda began to yawn and smack his lips as he woke up. He squinted and smiled sleepily, "Hey Ponyboy."  
  
"Who's Sarah?" Darry asked, concerned.  
  
"Didja hear?" interrupted Two-Bit excitedly. "Soda whooped Spike in the car race." His voice lowered as he saw Darry glare at him so he picked up his beer and said, "I think Mom will probably want me home by now. Bye, y'all." And Two-Bit dashed out the door. Steve sighed and walked over to Anya, nudging her softly, "C'mon, kiddo, time to go."  
  
"Do you need to stay here?" asked Darry. Steve shook his head as Anya yawned and stretched, "Nah, me and Dad are on speaking terms this week. C'mon, Anya." She kissed Soda on the lips briefly before Anya and Steve exited after Two-Bit. Hoping that that distraction had been a long enough to make a getaway, I began to sneak down the hall and to my room.  
  
"Don't think you're getting away with this," Darry said warningly, ruining my hopes. He yawned, "Aw, it can wait till tomorrow. Soda, Pony, get to bed." Whatever had put Darry in a good mood, I wanted to personally thank but didn't have the time, so I scurried off into the room Soda and I shared.  
  
SODA  
  
Work today was dreary since Anya wasn't going to be able to sneak out of school to have lunch with me and Steve. She had to make up some damn chemistry test. I was hoping she could sweet talk her wait out of it, but I doubt that's what Anya would do. So now my day's already a little darkened. We were meeting at the vacant lot to star gaze and just talk like we usually do. I have to be blunt, I miss her even though it's only been about six hours since I last saw her.  
  
Nothing really worth mentioning had happened until Larry stopped by. Me and Steve felt awfully bad for him; he was telling us about how he got nearly beaten to death by some Socs.  
  
"Damn Socs," Steve said, shaking his head and spitting. "Some day I'm gonna get my hands on one of them."  
  
"Aw, they ain't all bad," Larry said, wincing as he readjusted his weight so he could lean on his crutch. "Their two girls didn't seem too bad. One even tried stopping him."  
  
"Sonuvabitches," muttered Steve, "Socs can't go around treating us like that." Frankly, Larry was hardly a blue collar. He was well educated actually. Just two things held him back; the fact he was black and the fact he wasn't incredibly rich.  
  
Larry nodded, "Yeah, I know. I'm thinking about packing up and heading back to Harlem. It'd be nice to go back and visit my family, maybe going back to boxing," he playfully punched me in the arm, "just like Cassius Clay."  
  
"Hey, he won, who knows, you could be next," I laughed. Larry was a good guy, frankly. He had a wife and at least two kids back in Harlem, along with the rest of his family. If that's where he wanted to go, then I was all for it.  
  
"Good luck to ya, Larry," I told him. Larry nodded a "thanks" and began to hobble back to his car, which Pony and I had returned to him the other day. He bumped into someone at the door, and I didn't see who it was because I was counting the change, and I heard him say, "Sorry, miss."  
  
"It's okay." I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to, either. My suspicions were confirmed when I happened to gaze up. Yep. Sandy, standing there, in the flesh. She was wearing a too-big blue sweater and a short skirt that showed off her thin legs. Her hair was cut unevenly short, just below the ears, and she looked like she hadn't had a good night's sleep in days.  
  
She rubbed her arms, as if to protect herself, "Hey Sodapop."  
  
"I better go." Steve said, noticing who it was. He hurried outside to help a family of seven that had just pulled in.  
  
I looked down at the counter and whispered, "Hi Sandy." There was an annoyingly uncomfortable and long pause. Why was she coming back? Was there anything left to be said? My letters were returned unopened, she left for Florida to live with her parents. Sure, her family life wasn't what one would call stellar, but they beat Steve and Anya's, or a bunch of other greasers I could name.  
  
"Why are you here?" I asked.  
  
Sandy shrugged, "I thought you needed an explanation, that's all."  
  
"I don't think I want to hear one," I said coldly, brushing past her because I suddenly needed to count the new order of Baby Ruths we had just ordered. Sandy followed, shuffling her flip flop covered feet.  
  
"Soda, do you think I had a choice in the matter?" asked Sandy.  
  
I shrugged, "You didn't seem to mind too much--"  
  
"Soda, I didn't return your feelings, okay? I mean, you didn't really expect me to date you throughout the rest of my life, did you?" She noticed the dead seriousness in my face. I hoped it make her saddened. "Oh.you did."  
  
"Sandy, I was gonna ask you to marry me!" I snapped.  
  
"I didn't have a choice!" cried Sandy, pleading. She knelt before me, "Soda, you know my parents didn't like you in the first place. I needed a better environment, Soda. My grandparents enrolled me in a prep school, a prep school, Soda!"  
  
"Guess them preppies aren't good enough for me, huh?" I said bluntly.  
  
"Soda, I'm visiting my parents here," Sandy said, cutting straight to the point. "It'll be for the summer. I don't know, maybe we can salvage something--"  
  
"What are you doing here?" I nearly jumped. From Sandy's reaction, the flinching, the twisted agony on her face, she almost did too. We turned to see who had spoken. Standing in the doorway was Anya, arms crossed, face determined. Steve was behind her. He looked like he was trying to apologize, so I just nodded.  
  
"Anya, hey," Sandy said. When Anya used to come up, Sandy and her were best friends. "How's everything lately?"  
  
"I don't know," asked Anya. "Ask Sodapop. We are dating now, after all."  
  
"Anya, you always had a crush on Soda, don't tell me you've progressed to some sort of twisted hallucination now." Sandy quit when she noticed Anya was not kidding. She turned to me, "Is she serious?"  
  
I nodded. Sandy did not look too happy with that answer. I didn't know why she had any say in the matter. "How long did it take to replace me?"  
  
"Gee, Sandy, let me walk you through this," said Anya, enraged. "To answer your question, several months. You left him, Sandy! You broke his heart and now you expect that you're back in town that you can start this, this charade, this game you've been playing up again?"  
  
"Stay out of this, Anya," snapped Sandy.  
  
"No," said Anya. Steve and I were surprised. Anya never got sassy or brazen like this. "Sandy, I lived in mortal fear of this moment, and now it's come. Just, just go ahead." Anya began to walk off. I stood up to chase after her, "Anya, what are you saying?"  
  
"She's back, isn't she?" replied Anya, pointing to Sandy's general direction, as if she was afraid by saying her name she'd have to acknowledge the fact she had indeed returned, "This is what you wanted, go and take it."  
  
"What do you mean, Anya?" I still couldn't understand what she was trying to say. Sandy put it for me, "She's saying she's dumping you, Soda. So we can get back together--"  
  
"Anya!" I shouted. Anya began to walk off, but Steve grabbed her arm. He stared her dead in the eye. At the beginning, Steve didn't approve too much of our relationship, but I think he came around to the idea. "Listen to what he has to say, Anya." Anya sighed and turned back. She was beginning to tear up, and even began to shiver slightly, "What is it, Sodapop?"  
  
I turned back to Sandy and shook my head, "I'm sorry, Sandy, I just can't."  
  
"Can't what?" asked Sandy indignantly.  
  
"I can't get back together with you," I told her bluntly. I looked back to Anya, "I love Anya, and she loves me. That's something you didn't give back, Sandy." Sandy crossed her arms, and looked angrily off to the side for a moment and then back to me and Anya, disgusted, the sight of the two of us making her physically sick. Figuring that it was truly over between us, she decided to nudge one last bitchy remark at us, "Don't expect Wonderland to last forever, Anya."  
  
"Get out," ordered Anya, gritting her teeth. Sandy sighed, and then stormed out of the store, pushing past customers as she hurried down the street. I looked to Anya, excitedly, but she seemed like she was in utter shock. "What, Anya?" I asked.  
  
"You really turned her down?" she asked in response. I nodded, "Yeah, Anya. I want to be together." Anya looked off in the distance, surprised. Tears began to spill down her porcelain face.  
  
I brushed her tears away, "Marilyn, don't cry."  
  
Anya shook her head, "I'm not. I'm just happy!" She threw her arms around me and sobbed into my shirt. I patted her dark blonde hair and looked up at Steve, who was nodding, approving of my decision. This was the moment. It couldn't wait till tonight.  
  
"Anya, I have to tell you something," I told her. She wiped off her tears and ruined mascara and nodded to acknowledge that she was all ears. I knelt down before her, and pulled out a small box out of my side pocket. I was going to wait until she graduated high school, but that was one year off, too long. This needed to be said now. I had saved up nearly all my money to buy this, I even went in debt but it didn't matter. I opened the box and held out a small band for her to see, "Anya, will you marry me?"  
  
At first, Anya seemed generally shocked. Then she began to cry all over again, and knelt down beside me. "Yes!" she gasped through sobs. "Absolutely, Sodapop!" I couldn't believe it. I gathered her up in my arms and began to kiss her. We looked up to see Steve, leaning against the side of the door, still nodding but smirking as well.  
  
"Looks like we're going to have to find a minister," he replied. Anya jumped up, ecstatic, and ran over to Steve, hugging and crying and laughing all at the same time. He seemed to enjoy the attention, even though he didn't want to admit it. "Ah, kid, don't cry all over my uniform, this is standard issue!" I chuckled and then hugged Anya as tightly as I could, preventing nearly any force to hurt us.  
  
DARRY  
  
"Hey, Crick, where does Kat work?" I asked as the two of us strolled off to our respective vehicles. Crick paused for a moment. Crick may not have been the brightest person, or even the most hard working, but he was a nice enough guy to know.  
  
"Oh, that Winn Dixie on Pickett and Sutton," he said. He replied slyly, "Why, what would you want with my baby sister?"  
  
I grinned back, "I just remembered I needed some groceries."  
  
Crick laughed, "Peace out, brother." He then sped off and so did I. The Winn Dixie he was referring to wasn't too far from the roofing site we had worked at, so it was a pretty quick drive. I parked the truck and then hurried into the store.  
  
Kat was working at check-out 9, while slamming her broken register and balancing Cloud on her hip, who was crying. She was trying to hush her.  
  
"Oh, baby, don't cry, here's a lollipop," Kat said, giving her daughter a lollipop from a nearby container. Cloud amused herself by attempting to find out how to open the candy.  
  
"You overcharged me," said an old woman, Mrs. Reynolds. She was the same crabby one we had roofed her house days before.  
  
Kat looked at the receipt, "Damn, I'm sorry, Ms. Reynolds. I was never good at math anyway--"  
  
"This is the third time this week!" snapped the old lady. "What kind of fool hires you?!"  
  
"Do you need help taking that to your car--" began Kat, offering to take the bags from the old lady. Recoiling from Kat, Mrs. Reynolds slapped the cashier with her newspaper, "Bah, bad service, and that kid's hurting my ears!" She waved her newspaper at Cloud. Kat sighed, and suddenly noticed I was standing there, and gave me a quick wave before attending to the next customer, a slimy, greasy looking nebbish. He had buckteeth and a cowboy's hat.  
  
"Hey, Kat, Kat's okay with us since we're practically best buds right? Anyway, did I tell you how amazing you look--"  
  
"Buck, if you're wondering if I can let you slide by with your purchases, I'll just have to say no."  
  
"But c'mon, Kat. It's just a beer!"  
  
"Buck, count how many cans there are. There's six there!"  
  
Buck looked over to the six pack of cans, "I only see four."  
  
"There's six, my daughter could count better then you!" Noticing that she had been referred to, Cloud began to cry. "Shhh, Cloud, I'm sorry." Seizing the opportunity, Buck snatched the beer, hid it in his coat, and ran out. Kat hollered after him, "Hey, hey, you need to pay for that!" She sighed. Just then, a hefty looking manager with tortoise shell glasses and a handlebar mustache hurried over. His red hair indicated he was Irish.  
  
"I'm sorry, Katerina," the manager told her, "I'm losing customers--"  
  
"No, I'm the one that should be apologizing," Kat said, looking slightly saddened. "I promise you won't lose anymore."  
  
"Let's hope so," replied the manager, before turning and leaving. It was interesting to note that although he looked purely Irish, he spoke with a French accent. I strolled over to Kat, "Hey, Kat."  
  
She immediately looked happier, "Hey! What's going on, Darry?"  
  
"Nothing too exciting," I told her.  
  
Cloud pointed to me excitedly, "Darry!" Kat and I had a pretty good laugh about that one. Kat walked over to me and stood chest to chest to me. She began to stand on my tennis shoes, and looked up at me.  
  
"Anyway," I told her. "I was wondering if maybe, if this is all right with you of course, that maybe we could, provided that Cloud had a babysitter, we could.see each other tonight?"  
  
Kat smiled, and she looked happier then I had seen her all day, "Sure. They're playing 'Giant' tonight at the drive-through. I always was a big fan of James Dean." Her voice trailed off, "What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing," I said. Frankly, movies bored me to death, but if a movie was what Kat wanted to see, then a movie was what she was going to get.  
  
"Oh, bad idea, huh?" Kat asked, picking at a fingernail.  
  
"No, I'll go--"  
  
"It's a bad idea?" reiterated Kat. I nodded, "Yeah, Pony's the one who loves movies," I said, hitching my thumbs in my jeans.  
  
"Oh, your youngest brother right?" I nodded, pleased she had remembered. Then she shrugged. I decided to step up, "I wanna take you somewhere nice tonight." I had no idea where or if I had the money to spoil her like I wanted to.  
  
Kat shrugged, "I think I'm up for being pampered. I'll ask Corazon if she can watch Cloud tonight."  
  
"Great, does eight sound good?"  
  
"Perfect," Kat told me. "But don't be mad if I'm a little late, Cloud usually drifts off to sleep then." She patted her daughter on the head and smiled lovingly at her. I grinned as well.  
  
Work seemed to feel like an eternity afterwards. I just kept thinking about Kat. Where would I take her? I didn't have enough money to take her to a ritzy restaurant, so I decided on the diner Two-Bit's mom worked out. The whole gang was pleased when Two-Bit's mother quit her job as a barmaid and started work as a waitress; Two-Bit's mom was a nice woman and didn't deserve to be treated like she was being treated at the bar. I called up Kat and reconfirmed everything, and she seemed perfectly alright with going to a diner.  
  
"Hey Darry, we're gonna run out of Dapper Dan's if you haven't used it all up by now!" shouted Soda from the bathroom. So I tried making my hair look nice. And trying to hide the cowlick in the back that I inherited from my father, but then again, I don't think Kat would've particularly cared either way.  
  
"Sorry, little buddy!" I called. For once, the gang wasn't all at our house, just Soda, who was in the bathroom, and Pony, who was on the couch reading Les Miserables.  
  
"Pony, did you finish your homework?" I asked.  
  
Pony shrugged, "Yeah, for some reason. I don't see why we need to do it, we're graduating in a couple days--"  
  
"Hey, I want you to keep those A's up," I told him. "Scholarships aren't just being handed out, we want you to get in somewhere good, you hear?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, good luck with the girl," Pony told me, not looking up from his book.  
  
"Wait!" called Soda, hurrying in before I took off. "There's something I have to tell you and Pony-" Just then, the doorbell rang. I walked off to get it, and saw Kat standing there. She looked really stunning, to be truthful. Sure, she was wearing jeans and a flannel blouse but they were a nice pair of jeans and a blouse.  
  
She smiled sheepishly, "Crick lent me the car. Sorry if I disturbed anything."  
  
"Not at all," I told her. I began to hurry out, but Soda and Pony just had to meet this girl. I hadn't had a real date since I graduated high school. No other girl that I didn't need to beat off with a stick would come close to me.  
  
Soda rushed to the front door and held out his hand, "Well, hello, miss, I'm Sodapop Curtis, Darry's kid brother. So you're the little lady who's taking my brother out for dinner tonight?"  
  
"You're gonna be mincemeat if you don't cut that out," I grumbled. Soda grinned anyway. I couldn't stay annoyed at him for long.  
  
"Hello Sodapop," responded Kat, smiling. "And I am the girl who's taking Darry out for dinner tonight. Proud of it too."  
  
Ponyboy walked to the door and curtly said, "Ponyboy Curtis."  
  
"Hi, I'm Kat," she said, shaking his hand.  
  
"Well, have fun!" called Soda. "And loosen Darry up, will you? I need to ask if I can borrow a fiver." Kat took my hand and we walked to her Impala. She stepped into the driver's seat and started the car. The diner was only a short distance away, so it wasn't too long before we hopped out as well. By then we'd already covered quite a few topics.  
  
"I'm real sorry I couldn't afford you something as nice as I was hoping," I said bashfully as the waitress took our orders. "It's just-- "  
  
"You don't need an explanation, Darry," Kat told me, placing her hands in my enormous ones. "We all have problems. Trust me, I have my fair share."  
  
"You're being too hard on yourself," I told her.  
  
"Who's paying for this?" asked the waitress bluntly.  
  
Kat looked into her jean pocket and pulled out a wallet. She only took out a few dollar bills, "This is all I got on me now."  
  
"Don't worry, I'll pay," I told her. I noticed that Kat didn't order anything too expensive. I didn't want her to feel guilty, so I told her, "Don't worry about it." Just then, Two-Bit's mother hurried over, "Kat, is that you?"  
  
"Shirley!" Kat said. The two hugged like good friends.  
  
"You two know each other?" I asked.  
  
Mrs. Mathews nodded, "Sure, Kat used to work here. How's the baby?"  
  
"She's doing all right," Kat told her. "She can say the ABC's now."  
  
"Really? She sure is a doll," Mrs. Mathews said. Another waitress rang the bell. Mrs. Mathews yelled and then said to us, "Well, I got to skiddaddle outta here. You two have fun!"  
  
Kat shrugged, "I used to work here before I switched to Winn Dixie. Cloud got me fired here as well." Her face darkened.  
  
"Kat, look, don't worry, you're gonna be alright, that manager would be insane if he fired you," I told her. I really wanted to make her feel better, especially since she seemed so down.  
  
Kat nodded, "You're right." We thanked the waitress before consuming our food. Kat sipped a bit of her milkshake before asking, "Your brothers seemed nice."  
  
"Yeah," I agreed. "Soda's real cool to be around, loves attention, probably can make just about anyone laugh."  
  
"I think I've seen him down by the DX," replied Kat. "He was always real nice to me, didn't talk dirty like I was some piece of meat. What about Ponyboy?" I grew quiet. Ponyboy, what could I say about him?  
  
"Frankly, I don't think he likes me too much."  
  
"Why not?" asked Kat. She seemed generally surprised.  
  
"I think he thinks I pressure him too much," I told her. "Things got a little better after Johnny and Dally died, I think he started to realize what I was trying to do, but it's still never good enough. I'm only trying to do what's best for him, since I couldn't go to college after my mom and dad died."  
  
Kat nodded, and was listening earnestly, "That's terrible, Darry. Pony seems like a good kid."  
  
"He is. He gets straight A's and reads a lot, it's just sometimes I wonder why that kid can't use his head," I told her. I couldn't believe I was actually telling someone my actual thoughts. I didn't feel like I had to be Superman around her, it was like I could actually take a break from being stern, tough Darry.  
  
"I'm real sorry, Darry," she said. "I wish there was some great words of wisdom I could give you, other then that all guardians go through tough times raising children. Cloud's had her performances. Don't be so tough on yourself, though."  
  
"It's not your fault," I replied. We finished up our meals and then drove around town a little bit. We parked her Impala at her apartment and I gave her a piggyback ride up the stairs and to her apartment. We were in hysteric tears from laughing so hard.  
  
"I've never had so much fun," laughed Kat. To be truthful, I hadn't either. She took out a door key to her apartment and opened it, "Just hold on a minute, I owe you $2.95."  
  
"I told you not to worry about it," I insisted. But Kat was persistent and shook her head, "No, I need to pay you back, it's only fair." She opened the door, and invited me in. I stepped in and saw the abject horror that crossed Kat's face.  
  
"Mother?" Standing in the middle of the room was a tall and erudite looking woman. I could see where Kat got her beauty, although they looked nothing alike. This Caucasian woman was very slender but built like a woman, with blonde hair, full lips and blazing gray eyes. She was a beautiful woman, to be blunt.  
  
She stormed over to Kat, "Katerina Bianca Noreiga, don't you "mother" me! You've brought shame to my family already, bringing a child in out of wedlock, and now you're living here." I noticed a man stepped out of Kat's kitchen. He was a regular looking middleclass man, wearing khakis and a buttoned up T-shirt. His dirty blonde hair was cut in a military crew cut, and his eyes were a humble hazel. He and Kat's mother looked like they were roughly the same age.  
  
"Hey Kat," he said.  
  
Kat sniffed, "Hi Clint."  
  
"Don't bring my husband into this!" hissed Kat's mother. "We raised you properly, we listened to everything the psychiatrists said and yet you still turned out like a bum, just like your brother Crick! It's your good-for-nothing father, isn't it?"  
  
"Crick is not a bum!" shouted Kat. "And leave Dad out of this!"  
  
"Don't you tell me what I can call my son or not!" shrieked Kat's mother. "I brought you into this world, I can take you out! I swear, Katerina, I am not kidding when I say I'm calling the social workers."  
  
"No!" gasped Kat.  
  
Clint said, "Rubella, dearest, you're taking this too far. Cloud's Kat's daughter, she's an adult now."  
  
"And hardly acting like one!" cursed Kat's mother, Rubella. She glared at me, "What's this, the latest hoodlum you've picked off the street?"  
  
"He's not a hoodlum, 'Mother', he's probably the greatest person I've ever met, not that anything would ever be good enough for you," snapped Kat. She shouted to the ceiling, "I'M A TWO-PIECE WHORE WHO DOESN'T DESERVE TO BREATHE SAME AIR AS YOU! Are you happy now?!" Her eyes were full of rage.  
  
Rubella pondered this for a moment and then sighed, "At least you came clean with it."  
  
"Don't talk to her like that!" I snapped. Didn't she even realize how beautiful all around Kat was? Why was Kat's own mother treating her like this?  
  
Kat placed her hands to hold me back, "Let me handle this, Darry."  
  
Rubella shrugged, "Hmm, aggressive, just like the rest."  
  
"You shut up, Rubella!" snapped Kat. She turned to Clint, "Dear God, is this what you have to put up with? Why the hell did you marry her?"  
  
"Kat, that's showing disrespect-" began Clint. He never got to finish, for Rubella stormed over and smacked Kat across the cheek. I wanted more then anything to step in, but this was between Kat and Rubella.  
  
"HOW DARE YOU TREAT ME LIKE THIS?!" she hollered. "After all I've done for you?!"  
  
"What?" asked Kat, taking the blow. "Belittling me? Hiding us away when you needed to impress someone? Sending me away when I was only eighteen after making a mistake? You haven't seen your beautiful little granddaughter--"  
  
"I don't have a granddaughter," Rubella said stiffly. "That child is yours."  
  
"It's been two years, Rubella! I understand that you weren't happy with me, I know I wasn't the best teenager, but this has nothing to do with it anymore! This just has to do with you and your god damned ego!"  
  
"I refuse to stand by and listen to your lies," Rubella said. "Clint, we're leaving. Don't think you're safe, Katerina. I'm going to have a social worker be watching you very carefully." And with that, Rubella stomped off.  
  
Clint walked up to Kat and gave her a warm hug, "I'm sorry about your mother's behavior--"  
  
"Don't bother," Kat told him. She glared at her impatient mother, "Just send my regards." And then Clint joined his wife and the two left. I saw that Kat's eyes did not leave the door.  
  
"Kat, are you going to be alright?" I asked. I was concerned for her, her mother was a raving.to hell with it, bitch who couldn't even begin to appreciate her daughter for her talents.  
  
Kat nodded, "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." I noticed she was shaking. I walked over to her and enveloped her in my arms. Silent tears were pouring down her face. I stayed for as long as I could, just sitting on her couch, holding her as she wept. The poor girl cried herself to sleep in my arms. I managed to pay the concerned babysitter with my money when she brought Cloud over, and I put her to bed. She seemed strangely accepting of me, and fell asleep after I told her a bedtime story. I walked back into the living room and tucked the still sleeping Kat into bed. I didn't want to leave her there, but there wasn't too much else I could to. So I called home, told Soda that Kat was having a problem (he understood) and then curled up on the armchair and fell fast asleep. 


	5. Chapter Five

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is going to sound corny and repetitive, but thank you guys so much for the positive reviews, SodasGurl, Sammie, CuteCarly. They really want to make me continue. I decided to break with tradition and briefly have someone else take the POV helm. Pony's scene is kind of melodramatic, but I felt it was needed. I'll shut up now and give you Chapter 5.  
  
CHAPTER FIVE  
  
SANDY  
  
Ooh, the nerve of Sodapop Curtis! Dumping me?! Why me? What did Anya have that I didn't? Besides, it wasn't like it was going to be permanent or something, he could always hook back up with Anya when the summer was over.  
  
And who the hell does Anya think she is? Taking Soda from me! I couldn't believe it! Miserable bitch, she'll pay for this, I can promise that! I mean, why would Soda want her over me? I could list the reasons why I was better then Anya, but it was just then that a beat-up car began to pull up to me. I hadn't realized the time, but I guessed it was in the late afternoon. I had been so angry at that little performance Soda and Anya had pulled down at the DX that I hadn't even noticed they'd been following me.  
  
"Hey woman, come here." I turned to see who had called me. It was a Hispanic male, around his early twenties, who was wearing a white bandanna. His nose looked like it had been broken, and his face had a deep gash from his temple to his cheekbone. He looked pissed, so I walked over to his car. There was a gang of hoods that I would have to assume were the Brumly boys.  
  
"What do you want?" I asked, keeping a safe distance from them.  
  
"Don't question my motives," snapped the Brumly gang leader. "Do you know where a guy by the name of Darrel Curtis lives?"  
  
How appropriate. The first person I meet asks me where Soda's older brother was. I wondered if he was still single. I snapped out of it, "Yeah, of course. Why do you want to know?"  
  
"Don't question us, woman," the Brumly boy said. "Can you give us some directions to get there?" I paused for a moment, about to spill where they lived, when I had an idea. If I played my cards right, I could get back at Soda and Anya while helping this complete bum. I pouted and shook my head, "Unless you help me."  
  
"Fuck, woman, we don't have all god damned day!" shouted one of the other Brumly boys. With that, the gang leader smacked him with his arm, sending the lackey to the ground. Blood poured from his face.  
  
The gang leader turned back to me, "Now then, where were we? Oh yes, you want to make a deal with me, Julio Laredo, of the infamous Brumly boys? You're my type of woman. Perhaps I can interest you in more then just pure business.?" His voice drifted off. In a twisted, dark sort of way, he was kind of charismatic.  
  
I shrugged. I wanted Soda and Anya to suffer, and I was going to get my way, whatever the costs, "Of course, Julio.I can call you Julio, right? How about this, you help me strike back at one of my enemies, and I'll give you directions to the Curtis'. Deal?"  
  
Julio smiled, "You lead the way, little lady. Your enemies are now our enemies. So, who do you want taken care of?"  
  
I smiled right back at him, "Anya Randle."  
  
DARRY  
  
When I woke up, I had nearly forgotten what had happened. I was in a strange room smelling pancakes. Then it hit me. Last night, with Kat's parents. Her mother being a total bitch, it all came back to me.  
  
I gazed up from my post at the armchair to realize Kat wasn't there. On cue, Kat, who was wearing her Winn Dixie apron, hurried in with a plate of pancakes and set them on my lap. I took a bite of them. I had to admit, they were good.  
  
"Thanks," I said through a mouth full of pancakes.  
  
Kat smiled sleepily and brushed her tousled black hair out of her face, "No problem." She sat down on the couch and she started flipping through the newspaper. "You know, you could've easily taken advantage of me last night."  
  
I pondered for a moment about what she said. At first I thought she was kidding, but she seemed dead serious. I asked, "Why?"  
  
It was Kat's turn to be surprised. She changed subjects, "So, you met the parents now. Don't think they're exactly going to be pay for the wedding, huh?" She laughed, and I laughed with her to break the tension. She may have been laughing, but I could tell deep inside she was crying, her heart being torn right down the middle. I always remembered my parents as loving. To imagine that Kat had to put up with her mother for eighteen years was difficult to comprehend.  
  
"I'm sorry," I told her. She looked up at me curiously. I explained, "About your mother. And last night."  
  
"Forget about it, alright?" Kat said, confidently and struggling to be positive. "She's always like that. The few times she talks to me she always threatens to take Cloud away from me, and then we don't talk. Clint will talk her out of it. Besides, she's been worse." She kept listing off excuses, and finally managed to look up into my eyes. Kat sighed and slouched on the couch.  
  
"Okay, you're right. I just got a call from a social worker. She says that my mother called and she'll be watching me to see if Cloud is being living in an appropriate home," grumbled Kat.  
  
I nodded, "Is there anything I can do to help out?"  
  
Kat smiled, "Sure. Keep being yourself." Just then, a loud ringing sound from the kitchen. Kat muttered under her breath and threw a pillow at the timer. It hit the ground and moaned painfully before sputtering and dying.  
  
"Guess that's my cue to be an adult now and go to work," sighed Kat. She turned to me, "Um, I know this is kind of much to ask, considering all you've done for me already, but.could you give me a ride to work?"  
  
"Sure," I told her.  
  
"Thanks," she said. "Crick packed up and left and took the Impala so-- "  
  
I coughed, "What do you mean?"  
  
Kat blinked, "Crick. He left with his friend Larry to go to Harlem. Crick thinks he can coach Larry into winning the boxing tournament."  
  
"Wait, he just packed up?" I asked, placing the plate of now finished pancakes on the coffee table and standing up.  
  
"Yeah, but Crick is like that. He drifts, and when he gets bored of doing something he packs up and leaves," Kat said. She shrugged, "Guess skipping town with Larry was what he needed to do. It's his nature, Darry."  
  
I nodded, trying to understand. "Yeah, but couldn't he have left the car with you?"  
  
"Well, that's Crick for you," Kat told me. She then hurried into her daughter's room and woke up Cloud. Balancing Cloud on her hip and digging into her wallet, she pulled out a $2.50 and handed it to me.  
  
I shook my head, "No need to, Kat."  
  
"I'd feel better if you have it," Kat told me. She noticed the look in my eyes, "Just humor me, alright? Buy something nice with it."  
  
Knowing I wasn't going to win, I sighed and took the money, "Okay. C'mon, let's get you to work." Cloud began babbling and holding her arms out in front of her in my direction. When Kat and I hurried down the steps, Cloud began to cry.  
  
"What's wrong, honey?" asked Kat.  
  
Cloud pointed to me, "Darry! I want Darry!" I had to chuckle. Kat looked up to me with her pleading dark green eyes and said, "Do you think that you could hold her."  
  
I grinned and said, "Who wants a piggyback ride?"  
  
SODA  
  
"Are you sure this is going to be okay?" asked Anya anxiously. We were sitting in the living room of our house. We had decided to wait until everyone in our gang had settled down to announce the news of our engagement. The only person who knew so far was Steve, and he hadn't said a word. I looked to Anya's ring finger, and there laid the simple band I had purchased for her. I remember when I first bought it, the cashier had first followed me around the entire store, asking if I needed any assistance and basically wanting to make sure I wasn't going to mug him or hold up the store. And then, when I asked to buy one, it took the cashier all his might to not burst out into laughing. I dislike prejudice asses like the cashiers at fancy stores or the Socy patriarchs Steve and I serve at the DX who look like they would spit on us if they had the chance to.  
  
Today had been the last day of school for Anya, Two-Bit and Ponyboy and graduation was that night. None of our gang was planning to attend; Two-Bit was just a junior, nobody we knew was actually making it out of high school (Darry was the last one to actually graduate) and it was just a chance for Socs to cry and boast and lust after the memories of high school.  
  
"I can't believe it!" Two-Bit said. "I'm actually gonna be a senior next year. Spooky, huh?" He and Pony threw off their shoes and headed straight for the fridge, not even noticing that Anya and I were sitting on the couch.  
  
"Hey guys," Anya called.  
  
Ponyboy mumbled, "Hey Anya, Soda." He plopped himself down next to Anya, eating a piece of chocolate cake and reading Les Miserables. Two-Bit stretched himself out on the foot of the couch and flipped on the television. We killed time waiting for Darry and Steve to show up. Evie had just come back from Oklahoma City, and so she and Steve were spending quality time together, while Darry was still working.  
  
"Darry's got a girlfriend," I told Anya and Two-Bit for the hell of it.  
  
Anya nodded sincerely, "Good for him. It's about time he started dating other girls. I hope it works out." I love the sound of her voice. It's delicate and soft and real sincere sounding, not like most of the greasy girls we meet whom just say stuff to get you to make out with them.  
  
"So, Soda, Pony, you had to see her, she worth looking twice at?" asked Two-Bit, not looking up from the latest episode of "Howdy Doody".  
  
"Two-Bit!" I said. That's Two-Bit for you though. Always blunt and cuts straight to the point.  
  
"Yeah," Pony replied. "Petite, black hair, dark green eyes."  
  
"Hey, next time Darry's girl comes by, find out if she's got a sister," asked Two-Bit. It was a few minutes later until the door flew open. We all looked up to see who it was. Steve came flying in, swearing and stumbling. His eyes were bloodshot, and his speech was so slurred no one could really understand what he was saying.  
  
"Steve, what's wrong?" asked Anya. She walked over to him and helped him to the couch. When Steve sat himself down, she knelt down beside him.  
  
"Ah, nothing to worry about," Steve told her, patting her head. "Evie and I just got in another fight." Lately these days, Evie and Steve fought more then they actually had a real relationship. No one ever actually knew what these fights were about, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to guess; Steve's pent up anger.  
  
"So, you two kiddies told them the news yet?" asked Steve, punching me playfully on the arm. His breath reeked of cheap vodka.  
  
"About Darry and his new girl?" asked Two-Bit.  
  
Steve looked at us surprised, "What about Darry-Darry has a girlfriend?"  
  
"Yeah, but keep it down. It's a secret, and he don't know it yet," I replied sarcastically. "We're planning to wait to tell our news until Darry gets home."  
  
"There's more?" asked Two-Bit, surprised as he flipped the channel on our small screen TV. He sounded like some sort of starry-eyed contestant on a lame game show.  
  
"Okay, I'm home," Darry said, throwing his hard hat and tin lunchbox on the floor beside the door. He walked over to the armchair and sat himself down. Bags clung to his eyes desperately, and his hair was tousled.  
  
"Okay, since we all got you in here, we have some news to tell you," I said excitedly. I squeezed Anya's hand and glanced towards her. She seemed to beam with pride, but she was biting her lip. "This is what we wanted," I whispered. Anya cleared her throat, nodded and smiled softly. God, I love it when she smiles.  
  
"What?" asked Darry.  
  
"Anya and I have decided to get married!" I said. "Isn't that great!" We weren't exactly getting the response we had hoped for. Steve was lounging on the couch, from the gaping mouth and wide eyed expression Darry was shocked and Two-Bit seemed dazed and confused. Nothing particularly new there.  
  
Ponyboy stood up and slapped me on the arm, "Congrats, Soda, Anya." Anya was like a sister to the gang, and I knew Pony thought she was already part of the family. Now it was just going to be legal.  
  
"How are you going to get money to pay for this?" asked Darry. Leave it to Darry to be the one to ruin the mood. "Soda, Anya, you guys are only seventeen."  
  
Anya began to stutter, "U-u-u-um.we're not q-q-quite sure yet."  
  
"Leave the kids alone," Two-Bit told Darry. "Anya's already part of the family. Way to go, Soda, Anya."  
  
"T-t-thanks," stuttered Anya. Something was wrong. Anya never stuttered unless something was worrying her.  
  
"I'll ask my boss for a raise," I suggested. "We just need money for a priest--"  
  
"It's not that simple, Soda," insisted Darry. Damn him for being so damn responsible. "If you haven't noticed, money's kind of a big issue here."  
  
"I know," I told him. "Anya and I love each other, and that's enough for now."  
  
"Soda, this is a huge responsibility--" began Darry. Steve decided to butt in, "So, Darry, how's your girlfriend?"  
  
Darry blinked and asked innocently, "What girlfriend?"  
  
"The girl everyone's been talking about around here," persisted Steve. I'd have to thank him later for throwing Darry off the track.  
  
"Yeah, Pony says she's cute. Does she have a sister?" asked Two-Bit.  
  
"I'm not going to have my life be interrogated," Darry said, getting up to fix dinner. But I could see him grinning.  
  
"Darry's in love!" shouted Two-Bit, mouth full of cake.  
  
"OK, I'll admit, she's a nice girl," replied Darry.  
  
"I bet, you wouldn't be blushing so much if she weren't," Steve replied. "So, spill. What's the deal with the girl?"  
  
"Her name's Kat, I like spending time with her, end of story," answered Darry with finality.  
  
"And Darry thinks she's hot."  
  
"Pony!"  
  
"Sorry," replied Pony.  
  
"So, are you guys officially dating?" asked Anya.  
  
Darry answered less harsh to Anya then he did with the boys. I guess it was because she was the only girl we consistently ran around with, "Yes, no, yes, I hope so.I don't know. It's complicated. Who's staying for dinner?"  
  
"What are we having?" called Two-Bit.  
  
"Meatloaf."  
  
"Gee, I think Mom wanted me to clean up the garage," said Two-Bit, standing up and hurrying out the door. "See y'all!"  
  
Pony snorted, "Like that'll ever happen."  
  
"Steve? Anya?" asked Darry. I was hoping he was beginning to accept the idea of Anya and I getting married. Maybe I could get promoted the next day.  
  
"Nah, I think Father Dearest and I need to get in a fight, we're overdue for one," Steve groaned sarcastically. He stood up from the couch. "C'mon, Anya."  
  
"Bye Anya," I said, giving her a quick kiss on the lips.  
  
"B-b-b-bye Soda," she replied. Steve struck a match and lit his cigarette as he and Anya strolled out the door, with Soda gazing at her longingly. Anya glanced over her shoulder and gave him a smile before leaving.  
  
Ponyboy stood up and began to exit as well. Darry blocked him from leaving, "And where do you think you're going, kiddo?"  
  
"Out?" asked Pony innocently. "I'm sorry, Darry, but meatloaf?"  
  
"Well, when you pay rent, pay the bills and work overtime for crabby people then you can decide what we eat, now c'mon," Darry said.  
  
Defeated, Pony grumbled, "Why can't we have a garage to clean."  
  
PONY  
  
I couldn't sleep that night. I don't know if it was the anxiety of Soda and Anya marrying, or Darry's meatloaf, but I was wide-awake. Slipping out of bed, I threw on my tennis shoes and began to creep down the hall. I could hear Darry breathing from his room. He finally was getting some sleep. Good for him, I thought as I drew closer to the door. I slowly opened it, looked around to see if anyone had caught me, and then closed it.  
  
I rubbed my arms to keep myself warm. Now I wished I had brought a jacket or something. It had to be about midnight or so, because Buck Merril's party was in full swing. Every night at Buck Merril's was a party. To Buck, life was a party. I would've joined in, except Darry would have had me skinned alive if I was caught anywhere near his place, so I strolled on.  
  
As I walked downtown, I had plenty of time to think about everything. Today had been the last day of sophomore year. Time had passed since Dally and Johnny had died. Soda and Anya were getting married, Darry was dating again, Two-Bit was going on to be a senior (the real shocker there). But still, nothing had changed. Socs still hated greasers, Steve still hated his parents, Anya's parents still were to busy snorting cocaine up their nose, Two-Bit was still too lazy to actually get a job. Nothing had changed. So much should have.  
  
I passed by a drug store and noticed the Socs that had made it their mission in life to personally torture my brothers and me. Except minus one. Chris, Adrienne, Trista, Marguerite and David were there, but Spike wasn't. Where had their little puppeteer gone? They had all just graduated, and they were sitting in there, passing around some sort of drug. Hallucinogens maybe. I didn't care, but I knew from watching others that drugs were a waste of a life.  
  
Yet if I am a greaser, why am I not being reckless like I'm supposed to? Why am I not living up to my name? I began to think about where everyone in our group was going. Darry had given up his one shot for a high class future for me by staying at home and not going to college. Soda had dropped out of high school and was working at a gas station, and now had to support Anya, who as sweet as she was wasn't the smartest person around and blamed herself for everything wrong that happened in others' lives. Two-Bit had a great sense of humor and put things really simply, but on the flip side he was lazy, still in high school at eighteen and a half and still didn't have a job. And Steve still had too much anger that he had pent up. He was working at a gas station on a partial high school education.  
  
I shook my head. I wanted everything to be better. I wanted Dally and Johnny to be alive, and for that matter Mom and Dad. I wanted Darry to be in college, happily dating Kat. I wanted Soda and Steve to not have dropped out and were now owning the DX, with Soda and Anya comfortably married. I wanted Two-Bit to actually go out and do something. And maybe, just maybe, I wanted Sarah to be with me.  
  
Sitting myself down for the Nightly Double at the Drive-in. They were playing some Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russel flick, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. I'd seen it before, but I needed more time to think. I didn't want to go back home where I'd have to face reality. Sometimes I only felt most comfortable at the movies or writing.  
  
Dally, Johnny and I had jumped the fence and had skulked over to the movie theater. Two good lookin' Socy girls were sitting in front of us, one was a redhead and the other a black haired girl. Dally had kicked his feet up on the aisle ahead of us, and was talking trash to the redhead. Cherry. Cherry was getting real pissed. Dally left. Johnny and I sat next to Cherry and her friend, Marcia. Two-Bit stopped by. The taste of cheap concession popcorn. Walking them home. Bob. Goddamn Bob ruining it all. It was Bob's fault Cherry and Marcia left, practically dragging them by the leash. Bob and Spike had to be brothers, partners in pain. I miss Cherry. I miss Dally. I miss Johnny.  
  
It was roughly one twenty by the time I woke up. Escaping by jumping the fence, my feet took control of direction, leading me. I did not know where I was going, but I knew when I had crossed over to the West Side, the side the Socs dwelled on in their little perfect castles with their perfect lawns and perfect families. No. They weren't perfect. Cherry had told me so, Sarah had told me so.  
  
When I stopped, I realized I was standing on a lawn. Sarah's lawn. I looked up to see a balcony. What I did next I couldn't exactly tell you why, all I knew was that I needed to talk to Sarah. I picked up a few pebbles and tossed them at her window. They hit the window and fell like dead birds. I saw the light flip on, and I heard the shuffling of footsteps.  
  
"Who's there?" It was Sarah. I felt overjoyed. Dressed in a silk bathrobe and carrying a book by Oscar Wilde, she looked around and her eyes finally met mine. She smiled sleepily, "Hey Ponyboy."  
  
"Hey Sarah. Needed to talk."  
  
Sarah leaned against the balustrade and nodded, "Same here. Did you go to graduation tonight?"  
  
I shook my head, "Nope. Why?"  
  
Sarah shrugged, "I don't know. I cling to the past too much. I had to go and congratulate everyone that had finally made it."  
  
"Including Spike?"  
  
"No," Sarah said, shaking her head. "Spike wasn't there. His parents went bankrupt. All his little club members kicked him out when they found out. I think he was too ashamed to go."  
  
"I'd say I was sorry if I actually meant it."  
  
"Why?" sighed Sarah. "I wish I could, though." I nodded. I felt like I was an actor in some cheesy remake of a play, Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet". Sarah picked up on this notion, "Doesn't this feel like Romeo and Juliet?"  
  
"I'm hoping I'm not going to die in the last act."  
  
Sarah laughed, and then grew quiet, "So what's up with the East Side?"  
  
"My brother Sodapop's getting married."  
  
"Good for him," Sarah said, yawning. "See? Not everything is bad on both sides."  
  
"Yeah," I lied. I couldn't believe it; I hardly knew Sarah, yet why had I told her everything that I was thinking.  
  
"You know, I was filing papers the other day and caught your paper," Sarah replied. "'The Outsiders'?"  
  
I nodded, "Got a C on it."  
  
"Should've been an A," continued Sarah. "I never knew someone who wrote like you, Ponyboy. Don't let anyone take that from you."  
  
Just then, a feminine voice tipped with a Hungarian accent called, "Miss van Pelt, what are you doing up this hour?"  
  
Sarah looked back into her room, "Reading, Eufrasia." She turned back to me, "I'd love to talk more, but I have to go."  
  
I nodded, "I understand."  
  
"I'll see you again, I promise." Sarah's maid concerned calling was growing louder, and with that Sarah walked back into her bedroom and it was my turn to exit stage right. I took out a cigarette and lit it as I strolled back to the East Side. The side where you don't have meaningful conversations about life. The side where you have to act tough all the time. I found a comfortable vacant lot nearby my house, and for the first time fell fast asleep. 


	6. Chapter Six

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I want to thank CuteCarly and SodasGurl for the reviews. Unfortunately, at this time I'm running incredibly low on ideas. I have some ideas, mostly for the end, but I want to have an appropriate climb to the climax. Translation: I do have an idea about how this story ends, but I have no idea how I want to get there. Confusing, huh? I could actually write the climax right now, but I don't feel it fits properly with the flow of the story, especially since its probably going to be my first and only "Outsiders" story. Thank you for putting up with how long the chapters are. This one is kind of a breather chapter. I know I've repeated this over and over again, but if anyone has even the smallest idea, please tell me in the reviews or e-mail me because I could really use them! Thanks, here's Chapter 6  
  
CHAPTER SIX  
  
DARRY  
  
I awoke in the middle of the night to distant ringing. I flopped over in my bed and lazily hit the clock. It crashed to floor, and the arms, hanging only by a thread, read seventeen minutes after twelve. Dragging myself down the hallway and into the kitchen, I picked up the phone.  
  
"'lo?" This had better be good. Occasionally, Steve and Anya would stop on by at odd times at night after Steve had gotten in a vicious brawl with his drunken father. Our door was open to those in our gang.  
  
I heard sobbing on the other end. Intense crying. I instantly knew something wasn't right. "Hello Darry, it's me." I recognized her voice the instant I heard it.  
  
"Kat, what's wrong?" I asked. The shrieking began all over again.  
  
"He hit me, Darry." She was trying to sound calm, but her voice sounded like porcelain that would crack at the slightest drop.  
  
"Who?" I asked, a mix of concern, fear and confusion in my voice.  
  
"Julio!" she gasped. "He broke in about twenty minutes ago, swearing and drinking and in a foul mood. I tried to calm him down, but he wouldn't have it. Fists just kept flying, oh my God, he took it out on Cloud too! There's blood everywhere."  
  
"Oh my God." I murmured. I could hear Cloud bawling in the background, and now yelling, probably from the neighbors, was beginning to make its way through the reception.  
  
"And I got fired today! My boss just couldn't handle the complaints anymore, and the lost money and everything. And the social worker, she just stopped by a few minutes earlier and said that she didn't feel this was a proper place to raise Cloud!  
  
"I don't know what to do." she sobbed. "I never wanted Cloud to see something like this, and I have no money anymore. I can't believe I'm being so invasive, but Darry you're the last person I know and I was wondering, just until I got back on my feet, oh please, Darry."  
  
"Absolutely," I said.  
  
It was if I had mended all her problems. "Thank you Darry! Thank you so much." And then the receiver went dead. I wanted to tell her I'd pick her up. I wanted Kat to be okay. What had Julio done? How bad was the damage he had caused? I threw on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans and hurried out to the porch. A million thoughts were racing through my head. What kind of sick bastard would hit the mother of his child and then his own child? My hands were sweaty, but that was the least of my problems at the moment. I knew I probably should have woken up Soda and Pony to tell them we were going to have two girls living with us, but I wasn't thinking clearly.  
  
I saw a limping silhouette come walking down the north side of the street. On her hip was a smaller figure, and the silhouette was carrying a bag of something. It had to be Kat. She was limping, and I could hear Cloud whimpering. I ran over to her.  
  
"Kat!" I shouted. I could hardly see her, but her hair was in curlers, and I saw a trail of blood behind her.  
  
"Hi Darry," she said. "Guess this is a bad time to ask for a date, huh?" I would've normally laughed if the situation hadn't been so serious. I took Cloud in one arm and Kat's bag in the other and I ushered them up the stairs and into the house. It was when I flipped on the light I noticed how severe the damage was.  
  
Kat had bruises up all her arms, and cuts on her legs. Her left eye was swollen shut and a sickly bluish black. Her lip had been cut open and blood was spilling from a nasty gash on her back. I couldn't believe that this had been the happy wild child I had taken out just last night.  
  
To make matters worse, Cloud wasn't in much better shape. Blood caked her dark brown hair, and she had bruises on her face as well. The marks left by the chains were bright red. Her cheeks were stained by the trails of her tears. I was sick to my stomach, and I had seen a lot in my twenty years.  
  
"I need to put Cloud to bed," Kat murmured. It was hard to hear her speak since her lip was cut up.  
  
"Here, you can have my room," I said. I led Kat and Cloud into my bedroom. I cleaned up a bit and laid Cloud down to rest. She fell fast asleep, her eyes fluttering. Kat and I quietly closed the door and sat back down in the armchair.  
  
"It's not that bad," Kat said optimistically. "I mean, Julio could have done a lot worst, he was just angry."  
  
"Miserable bastard," I murmured.  
  
Kat sighed, and then whispered, "How bad is it?" What was I supposed to tell her? Was I to lie and tell her that it was a few scratches and bruises? Or was I to tell her the grisly truth?  
  
"It's bad," I decided. That was a normal medium between the door.  
  
Kat nodded, and then covered her gaping mouth. She looked like she was going to burst into hysteric tears at any moment. Her voice crackled, "I never wanted to raise my daughter like this. Not like this." She looked around. Blood was dripping onto my T-shirt, but I couldn't care less. I gathered her up in my arms, and felt her shaking body.  
  
"Why her?" she sobbed softly. "I could've taken it, but to hurt his own daughter." I couldn't understand the rest, but the two of us just sat there, Kat in my lap, just holding one another. I don't know how long we sat there in that armchair, nor do I particularly care. I could hear her whispering "I'm sorry," over and over again, until she had cried herself out. By then, we had fallen asleep together, afraid that if we didn't we'd disappear forever.  
  
PONY  
  
There is no day quite like the first day of summer vacation. And here I was, spending it awakening to a vacant lot. I trotted back to my house. How was I going to tell Darry that I stayed up nearly the entire night? Maybe I didn't have to.  
  
I stealthily crept up the stairs and opened the porch door. I was a little more then just surprised to see what I saw in the living room. Darry was sitting in the armchair, arms wrapped around that girl he'd met, Kat. However, she looked really banged up. I had just noticed the drops of blood imprinted onto the ground. Darry looked so peaceful sleeping, not stern and tough like I was used to.  
  
I was about to make my escape when I heard Darry say, "Nice try, kiddo." I turned on my heel to see Darry yawn and wake up.  
  
"How the hell do you do that?"  
  
"The powers of being the eldest," Darry replied sleepily. "Come. Sit. How come you are just entering the house?"  
  
"Um.Two-Bit needed to pick up some cigarettes, so he stopped by and I was the only one up."  
  
"Try again," Darry said sternly.  
  
I saw Kat nuzzle her face into Darry's chest, "Darry, go easy on the kid."  
  
Darry sighed, tired from whatever happened last night, and nodded, "Don't pull a stunt like that again, got that?"  
  
"Of course not," I nodded eagerly. I had no idea what Kat was doing over at our house, but I was really going to need to thank her at some point. I slipped into the bedroom that Soda and I were forced to share, changed out of my clothes, and then jumped on the bed, waking up the sleeping Soda.  
  
He grabbed my by the collar of my shirt, "You pull something like that again and I'll make mincemeat out of you!"  
  
I laughed, "Get up, Soda."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I know, I've got work," he grumbled. He then trudged off towards the direction of the bathroom to take a shower. Soda was by far not a morning person. Neither was I, to an extent. I hurried back into the kitchen. Kat and Darry were now somewhat awake, and I could hear Darry's voice, "Are you sure you're going to be alright?"  
  
"Yeah, I'll help out around here. I'll see if I can stop by the unemployment office or somethin'," Kat said. God, she looked like she had taken a bad beating. Who would beat up her though?  
  
"I just hope your brothers take this well, I can understand them being angry with someone invading their house," continued Kat, sounding generally happy considering how miserable she looked.  
  
"They better take it well," Darry replied sternly. He kissed Kat on the forehead, "I'll call to check up on you, alright?"  
  
"Okay," nodded Kat. It was just then that Steve, Anya and Two-Bit burst into the house. Two-Bit and Steve both fought over who could raid our refrigerator first.  
  
"I'll cook something for you guys," Kat murmured, clutching her forehead. She noticed the shocked stares from Steve and Two-Bit, and she immediately slipped on sunglasses.  
  
"Is this Darry's girlfriend everyone was talking about?" asked Two- Bit.  
  
"Yeah," smiled Kat softly. I think Two-Bit saw the sadness in her face, but Kat quickly tried to mask it, "Katerina, but you guys can call me Kat."  
  
"Hey, Keith Mathews, but everyone calls me Two-Bit," Two-Bit said, attempting to sound serious. I knew he felt awkward doing so.  
  
"Steve," nodded Steve. He tilted his head towards Anya, "This is my cousin, Anya."  
  
"Hi," replied Anya sweetly.  
  
"So are you two living together or something?" asked Two-Bit. He pointed to Darry and then Kat.  
  
"Yes." began Kat. "Oh, wait, no, not like that. I just had some." she coughed, "problems I needed to sort out. Don't worry, I'll be out of your hair in no time."  
  
"Actually," admitted Anya, "it's kinda nice having another girl around the house."  
  
"Thanks," said Kat appreciatively. "I'll cook you guys some breakfast." Just then, a cute little toddler, roughly two years of age, came hobbling into the living room. Unfortunately, the little girl wasn't in any better shape then Kat, but she looked like she was healing. She sniffled a little bit before holding out her arms and crying, "Momma!"  
  
"I'm here, baby," said Kat, lifting the girl into her arms and hurrying back into the kitchen. If I had been surprised before, I wasn't as surprised as I was now. Now there was a kid added to the mix?  
  
"She's got a kid?" I whispered to Darry.  
  
"Yeah, but she feels lousy, so leave her alone and be nice," whispered Darry back. He hollered, "Sodapop Curtis, you better hurry in here if you want your breakfast!"  
  
Soda strolled in, tossing his DX cap to Anya, who caught it with both her hands. She hurried over to him and gave him a kiss on the lips. She dangled her arms around his neck.  
  
"Heya, beautiful," laughed Soda.  
  
Anya giggled, "I think I could get used to this for the rest of my life."  
  
"You betta," replied Steve seriously. I remembered that last night, Soda and Anya had announced they were getting married. It was a good choice for them, but I remembered how gung ho Soda was to marry Sandy as well.  
  
Soda nodded to Kat, "Hey Kat." Shrugging when he saw Kat holding her child, he seemed the most accepting out of all of us to the idea that Kat had a child.  
  
"Hey Soda," Kat said back.  
  
"Soda Soda!" called Kat's daughter. She giggled.  
  
"What's the kid's name?" Soda asked.  
  
"Cloud," Kat said. She held up Cloud's hand as if to make her wave, "Say hi to Soda."  
  
Cloud began to fuss, "Ride! Darry!"  
  
"Sure, kiddo," said Darry. He took Kat from Cloud's arms and swung her around. Cloud giggled happily. I had never seen Darry been so carefree since Mom and Dad died. Something in Kat had to have brought that out of him.  
  
"I'm making pancakes," called Kat from the kitchen. "I'd cook something better, but I know you guys are in a hurry."  
  
"No sweat, Kat," Soda replied. He tackled Anya and the two fell backwards over the couch, lying upside down across the couch. Two-Bit decided to join in on the mayhem and took Cloud from Darry, swinging her around and laughing hysterically. His work done, Darry walked over to Kat and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck softly. She giggled quietly.  
  
"Boom!" shouted Two-Bit, crash-landing Cloud on top of Soda, who was cradling Anya. Anya shrieked with excitement, and Cloud snatched Soda's hat and began to gnaw on the bill.  
  
"Hey!" laughed Soda. I sort of stood away from all the mayhem, watching silently and observing. My eyes had bags under them because I was tired. Sleeping in a lot is hardly the most comfortable experience. Two-Bit solved my problem of keeping distant by tackling me to the ground, complete with headlock.  
  
"Breakfast!" called Kat. The five of us, with tagalong Cloud hot on our trails, tromped into the kitchen. She served us roughly three (five for Two-Bit) pancakes. We devoured them in minutes.  
  
"I have to head to work," Darry said, kissing Kat on the forehead.  
  
"Yeah, see ya, Kat," Soda said, patting his stomach happily. He, Steve, Anya and Darry headed for the door, leaving Two-Bit and I alone with Kat and her daughter.  
  
"So, little lady, any plans for today?" asked Two-Bit, hands placed on the back of his head, leaning back in his chair cockily.  
  
Kat placed the finished dishes in the sink and shrugged as she ran hot water threw them, "I'm up for suggestions. I figure we can goof off today before I actually have to go back to working."  
  
"Sister," Two-Bit replied, striking a match against the table and lighting his cigarette, "you dig okay."  
  
SODA  
  
After Darry dropped Steve, Anya and I off at the DX and took off, customers began to line up, mostly girls baring little clothing to do the humidity. Steve and I talked Cherry and Marcia, the two real nice Socy girls, who had stopped by. They were now dating two brothers from Oklahoma City and seemed generally happy. The other girls at the DX, however, got real jealous and by the end of our talk were practically dragging Cherry and Marcia out of the DX. I wasn't paying too much attention to them, however; I had a job to get done, and that was to ask my boss for a raise.  
  
Most people hate their bosses, but ours isn't too bad. A hefty woman with freckles covering her face, Diane had curly orangey-red hair and a tattoo of a snake on her left arm. She swore like a soldier and was proud of the fact she could spit a distance of two feet. However, she rarely stopped by, only to check up on us and see if Anya and I weren't spending too much time together.  
  
"Hey, um, Diane," I said, approaching her. She was sitting on the curb, chain smoking and sharpening her knife by whittling away at a piece of wood.  
  
"Oh, heya Sodapop," she replied. "Business going well?"  
  
"Yeah, real well actually," I said. "Um, not too long ago I got engaged to my girlfriend."  
  
"Anya? Good kid. Don't know why you kids classify her as a grease," Diane said. She slapped me roughly on the arm, "Good luck to that."  
  
"Yeah, and I was wondering if I could have a raise?"  
  
Diane's face darkened, and her face was in an emotional struggle, "Sodapop, you know how I think you're a good kid, and that Anya girl and you are going to be real happy. But I can't afford to pay you anymore then I'm already paying."  
  
I nodded. I hated being mature. I knew Diane felt real bad about the fact that I was near broke and now trying to support another person. Still didn't make me feel any better. Sighing, I stood up and strolled towards Anya. Her face lit up when she saw me and she seemed real hopeful, but when I shook my head she sighed. I sat down beside her on the curb and rested my arm on her shoulder.  
  
"W-w-w-hat are w-w-we going to do?" asked Anya.  
  
I shrugged and blew a smoke ring from the cigarette I was smoking; "I have no idea. What I need right now is a some cold hard cash, and fast too." Anya's face was determined, and she had something on her mind.  
  
She brushed my bangs out of my face, "Don't worry, Soda. We'll get money, and we'll live in a perfect little house with picket fences that's right across from Darry and Pony and everything will be wonderful, okay?" I glanced over at Anya and flashed her my famous grin. She smiled and kissed me gently on the forehead. I smudged my car grease stained fingerprint across her cheek, and she giggled happily.  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Evie?!" Steve's voice ruined the moment. I saw Evie storm out of the convenience stand, her face flushed with anger, her fists clenched with rage. Steve came trailing after her.  
  
"Evie.?" asked Anya, standing up. I stood up beside her and chucked my cigarette butt.  
  
"Evie, baby, listen--"  
  
"There's nothing to listen to!" snapped Evie, spinning around on her heels. "Steve, I can't take this anymore--"  
  
"What anymore?!" shouted Steve. His voice was filled with rage.  
  
"This!" she shouted. "Half the time we ever go out on our so-called "dates" they usually end up with you yelling at me for your own God damned problems and I can't take it anymore! It's not my fault that your father's a drunk and your mother's too damn cowardly to ever do anything about it--" By then, Steve had had it. He smacked Evie clear across the face.  
  
"Don't you talk about my family ever the fuck again!" he shouted.  
  
Evie spat, "Why? Everyone in the god damned town knows your father's the biggest drunk since Johnny Cade's--"  
  
"Don't talk about Johnny either!"  
  
"I can talk about whatever the hell I want to!" protested Evie. "You're gonna end up just like him if you don't clean your act up!"  
  
"You are a fucking bitch, you know that?"  
  
"Here, here's your god damned class ring, not that you need it ever since you dropped out of high school!" And Evie chucked the ring straight at Steve. It hit him hard in the forehead and collapsed to the ground. Evie then turned and stormed off.  
  
Anya ran up to her, "Evie, stop, Steve will--"  
  
"You stay out of this, Anya!" Evie yelled, "we all know you're only here 'cuz your mom's a hooker and your dad was a thug!" Evie had really crossed the line now. No one in the entire East Side talked trash about Steve's cousin because everyone liked her so much. And for the fact that Steve would come and punch the lights out of anyone who did. We all knew that her parents were crack addicts, that her mother was a prostitute and that her dad was shut up in a drive by shooting. Anya looked like she was about to burst into tears, considering the fact that her and Evie were best friends.  
  
Steve did the first thing that came to mind, by hurling the shot glass of vodka he was carrying straight at Evie. Evie shrieked and dodged the flying projectile. It shattered into thousands of glass shards. He yelled, "Never talk trash about Anya ever the fuck again, you god damned bitch!"  
  
I joined in, "Get the hell outta here, Evie!" Evie seemed more then obliged to, and joined her girlfriends in the car and sped off immediately. Anya had collapsed to her knees by now, and tears were streaming down her face. I knelt beside her, and Steve was glaring as Evie drove out.  
  
"Forget about her, okay?" I assured her. "She doesn't know what the hell she's saying."  
  
"But she's right!" cried Anya. "My mom is a whore and my dad was a thug.before he got blasted to shreds. I guess Dorothy was right, I'm really not in Kansas anymore."  
  
"Evie isn't worth trash, Anya," Steve told her. "C'mon, I'll buy you guys a soda or something."  
  
"No, forget about it," Anya mumbled. She wiped tears off and then kissed me on the lips, "I've got some business to take care of. I'll see you boys around." Before I could argue, she stood up and walked off. 


	7. Chapter Seven

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Be warned: this chapter is kind of strange. I don't know, I just wanted to keep this story up and running. Honestly, you guys, I probably would've stopped a long time ago if it hadn't been for you guys encouraging me. I want to thank BSBnACcHiCk and SodasGurl for reviewing the last chapter. This chapter sounds like I'm on the verge of suicide or something; I'm not, it's just when I wrote this I was listening to all these slow songs on the Internet and school's starting and, well, I took it out on my work! I like Pony's scene a lot in this story. Oh, does anyone mind if I borrow two greaser girls for the next chapter? I wanted to add some continuity (i.e. too lazy to create new characters) so I wanted to borrow just two. Yeah, thanks, anyway, here's Chapter 7.  
  
CHAPTER SEVEN  
  
PONY  
  
Today was really the first day of summer vacation. Typically, since Two- Bit and I were the only ones who didn't work, we'd mostly stop by and hang at the DX or stop by his mom's diner for some free food or something. But we had Kat and Cloud with us, so we figured we shouldn't do too much walking since Kat was carrying Cloud on her waist.  
  
Kat was trying to cover whatever bruises or signs of injury she had by wearing a long sleeved blouse, sunglasses and heavy make-up. Cloud had refused to wear any sort of cover-up, and Kat had given up. Frankly, I was rather nosy in wondering what had happened.  
  
Kat practically read my mind, "You're probably wondering why you're stuck with me, huh?"  
  
"If you make as mean as pancakes as you made this morning, I don't particularly care," replied Two-Bit, stealing a "Student Crossing" sign and slipping it in his members only jacket.  
  
Kat laughed, "Cloud's father came back and gave us a little trouble." Her voice grew quiet.  
  
"That's awful, Kat," I told her.  
  
Kat shrugged, "Could've been worse." She was being incredibly optimistic, and mostly in denial. We stopped into a convenience store to buy some Dapper Dan's, cigarettes and chocolate milk.  
  
"I'm going to head back home," Kat told me and Two-Bit. Cloud didn't look too healthy; she was real pale and tired looking.  
  
"Are you sure the kid's all right?" asked Two-Bit.  
  
Kat looked to Cloud, "I don't know, she looks a little pale. I'm going to take her home, do you guys have a thermometer?"  
  
"Yeah, here, we'll take you home," I said. Two-Bit was a bit reluctant, especially since he had just ran into Tallulah Beckett. So I escorted Kat and Cloud back to our house.  
  
"Hey Ponyboy, you and Darry are okay, right?" asked Kat.  
  
I shrugged, "I guess."  
  
"Pretty lucky to have a brother that cares for you," sighed Kat.  
  
"Why?" I asked. "What's your deal?"  
  
"My dad owns a gas station in Albuquerque, my mom can't stand me and won't acknowledge my daughter, my older brother, Paul, lives in New York as a businessman and has a family of his own, and my other brother, Crick, just took off to Harlem. You?"  
  
"Fold," I said. Why was Kat talking to me about Darry? I hardly knew her, but she didn't seem to be the type of person who had things come easily to her.  
  
"Just be easy on him, okay?" Kat said, walking up the stairs to the house. "Just know that he loves you, okay?"  
  
Normally, I would've bitten the head off of anyone who had just moved in and who was preaching to me about this kind of topic, but Kat seemed to have this openness, this simple honesty, that it was hard to yell at her. So I just nodded, and said, "Sure, Kat. I'll try."  
  
She smiled, "Thanks, Ponyboy." And then she opened the door and stepped in. Now that both of my companions had drifted off, I now had no place to really go. I was too bored to stay home, but was tired of stopping by at the DX. I figured downtown was the smartest place to go, so I started to stroll down there. I bumped into Curly Shepard, Tim's kid brother and hood- in-training. He was on some hallucinogen and asked if I wanted some. I shook my head and kept walking. I don't know why I did though. Curly was a cool guy, but I just wasn't in the mood to sit around smoking hallucinogenic drugs.  
  
I hopped a bus and decided to spend some time occupying a seat, watching the people that stopped by. One young woman was staring at a picture of a young man around her age, dressed in a military uniform. Tears stained her olive skin. A businessman was scuttling to work, his left eye twitching. The bus driver, a large black woman, was chatting with an elderly couple that was coming to visit their grandson. They mentioned the name "Randy". I knew a Randy. He was just a guy, a Soc really. Marcia's boyfriend, last time I checked. I shrugged. Was I supposed to care?  
  
"Hey kid, you gonna get off anytime soon?" It was the bus driver. I had drifted off to sleep for a few minutes. It was around five now, and I had an hour to kill before heading back home for dinner.  
  
"Uh.yeah," I said. I needed an alibi, so I quickly responded, "Here."  
  
"Here?" asked the bus driver. She shrugged, "Sure thing, kid," and stopped the bus. I hopped out of the bus and looked around. I was in a pretty Socy area, eerily the graveyard. Bad memories flowed to my head. Johnny and Dally were buried here. I remembered the service for Johnny. People who didn't even know Johnny showed up. Why? They had no right being there. They didn't know that Johnny thought of suicide, or that his mom did give a rat's ass about him, or that his dad was drunk, or that the furthest Johnny ever got out of town was a Dairy Queen in Windrixville. They moved not too long ago, to Las Vegas or something. Johnny was dead. It was like that "Beatles" record that if you play backwards you can hear "Paul is dead". Johnny is dead. Johnny is dead. Johnny is dead. If only I could play it forwards, maybe Johnny wouldn't be dead. Maybe it'd just be garbled words.  
  
Dally didn't get a service. He wasn't good enough. No one mourned for the fact that an eighteen year old laid dead in the ground. We had to bury Dally ourselves, right next to Johnny where he wanted to be buried. Johnny was all Dally had left. And now they're both dead, rotting underground. Nothing was left except a fat folder in the police office that probably hung in a special little glass case that said "Jail Bird of the Century". In it's own little place of honor. Damn them. Police killed Dally. Police can go to hell for all I care. The mature side of me said that not all police were bad. True. But Tulsa's were the rankest of all of them, the Spikes and Bobs of policemen.  
  
Thinking this, I hadn't realized I was now lying at the foot of Johnny's and Dally's tombstones. Johnny had an elaborate tombstone, with a wide- eyed cherub staring out at me, with "Jonathan Cade 1940-1955. Beloved Son and Friend". Bullshit. His parents didn't give a fuck about Johnny. And Dally's tombstone was nothing more then a slab of concrete with "Dallas Winston" barely scraped across it.  
  
"Damn it, Johnny," I hissed beneath clenched teeth. "Damn it, Johnny, why is it you? Why not Spike or Kat's ex-boyfriend, or anyone else other then you!" I slammed my fist against the tombstone and yelled in agony. I felt hot tears burning my face. Burning, like what Johnny had to endure in the church. Everything friggin' reminded me of that church.  
  
"Pony?" I didn't have to look up. I didn't want to know. It was Sarah. I could tell by her voice. My mind wasn't entirely connected to my body at that point. Sarah walked over and knelt beside me. She wrapped her arms around my head and held my head against her chest. Feeling her racing heartbeat, her tears fell on top of my hair. We found solace in one another's arms.  
  
We must have sat there for an hour at least, probably more. At this point, I don't care how long I sat there. I needed Sarah's comfort. At that very moment, Sarah was the most beautiful thing in the entire world. Silence surrounded us like a comforting security blanket. I didn't want to shed the blanket, to come out from the sheets and face the cold, cruel world.  
  
But all good things came to an end, and I spoke, crushing the moment innocently, "Thank you."  
  
Sarah nodded, her white blonde tendrils covering her beautiful jade green eyes, "No, thank you, Pony." Something was different about Sarah. I wasn't quite sure at that time, and it would take me time to realize what it was. Her voice was quivering, and her arms shook painfully.  
  
"What's your excuse?" I asked.  
  
Sarah closed her eyes, and paused for a long time before speaking, "I was visiting my mother."  
  
"Where is she?"  
  
"Six feet underground."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"I blame cancer," she whispered, her voice soft and dulcet. "My mother loved me very much. She left me when I was eleven. Sometimes I get nightmares about what could've gone differently. So much could've gone differently."  
  
I squeezed my eyes shut, "Don't blame yourself, Sarah." Sarah didn't respond. We didn't need to say anything.  
  
"I didn't know how close you were to Johnny," whispered Sarah, a caring mother watching over her loved one. I nodded. There were certain things I could tell Johnny. Things like sunsets and Southern gentlemen going off to certain death. Things that I normally couldn't tell Darry or Two-Bit or Steve or even Soda. Just Johnny. And Sarah. And possibly Cherry Valance.  
  
"I have to go," murmured Sarah, beginning to stand up.  
  
I clung to her protective arms, pleading, "Don't leave."  
  
"I have to," she said, wiping tears descending down her elfish face. "Reality calls."  
  
"I'll take you someplace then," I said quickly. I didn't care where I'd take her, just as long as it was with Sarah. My beautiful, deep Sarah.  
  
Sarah shook her head, her white-blonde hair cascading down her small shoulders, "I can't. I have a date."  
  
"Who?" I interrogated. Did I hear right? Earwax was clogging my ears, right? I knew my answer already, but I didn't want to admit it.  
  
"Randy Adderson. He said he wanted to see me." She read the betrayal and pain in my eyes. "Don't speak. Please don't speak, Pony, it hurts me too much." I would've given my kidney to be Randy Adderson tonight.  
  
Sarah sighed, "Pony, don't take it the wrong way. I am not dating Randy, it's just at graduation he was there and I was there and he asked and I didn't think I'd have anything to do." Right then I wanted to smile and nod, just to please Sarah. But I just couldn't, and my sadness clouded my face.  
  
Sarah looked off at the sunset, "You're a lighthouse, Ponyboy, you know that? Never give that up." And then Sarah disappeared, as if she was nothing more then a mere specter of my imagination. Sarah was my life support. I was her lighthouse.  
  
SODA  
  
Work grew worse from then on. My heart wasn't set in my work, and the idea of marrying Anya dawned on me. How was I going to support her? Darry, Pony and me could barely survive on our own, and Darry and I worked full time. Anya was going to be another addition to the family, and that was going to be a tight squeeze. I needed to go somewhere.  
  
By the time Steve and I trudged home, I was ready to crash on the couch. Too much reality for one day. Steve was still bitter over Evie, you could tell it in his face. He was my best friend, so I decided to cheer him up.  
  
"Think of it this way, that's less dinners you have to pay for," I joked. Steve didn't take that well. I kicked open the door and tossed off my sneakers. Kat was sitting on the couch, folding laundry and wearing a handkerchief to hold back her flowing black hair. Cloud was sleeping next to her.  
  
Kat smiled and whispered, "Hey Soda, Steve."  
  
I nodded back at her, "Heya Kat, want me to put the kid in Darry's room."  
  
"Would you?" asked Kat, brushing a tendril of her hair back and glancing at Cloud. I scooped the small girl up in my arms and carried her into Darry's room. I nestled her comfortably into Darry's bed and tucked the sheets in. Cloud was sucking her thumb and clutching a stained stuff monkey who was missing an eye and had several patches sewed in. Her tiny body felt uncomfortably warm. She looked so peaceful and calm, as if she wasn't a little girl that had been abused too many times and was merely surviving by her mother's hard earned money.  
  
I sighed as I trudged back into the room. Steve was out on the porch, smoking like a maniac. Kat glanced up to see me and smiled again, "Thank you, Soda."  
  
"No problem," I said curtly.  
  
"Wait, Soda," she called. I turned back to hear what she had to say. Her bruises were healing, and her face had been cleaned up from this morning.  
  
"Yeah?" I asked.  
  
"Um, I'm sorry about coming in and invading your house. I feel really low and all."  
  
"Don't worry about it," I said, brushing the whole topic aside. "Look, you needed a place to stay. It's good Darry's finally opening up to somebody."  
  
Kat blushed, "Thank you."  
  
I paused for a moment, "Oh, hey Kat."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Do you really love Darry?"  
  
Kat didn't even bat an eyelash, "My past history with relationships involves too many mistakes then I'd like to count. Darry's proved them wrong."  
  
I nodded, "You're okay, Kat." Kat smiled and nodded quietly. I then turned and headed out to the porch. Steve was sitting there, cross-armed, leaning back in his chair. His cigarette butt was dangling from his mouth, and the small, fiery little embers danced. Pent up anger was clearly written across his brow.  
  
"Evie, huh?" I asked.  
  
Steve nodded, "Fucking bitch if you ask me." I knew he was taking this harder then he was showing. Evie was the only girl Steve dated that he actually cared about. Until today, I hadn't ever had a problem with Evie. Loud and rambunctious, Evie generally cared about Steve. She broke down in tears when he got hauled down to the station. I just think she broke under all the pressure Steve was putting on her.  
  
"It ain't either of your faults, you know that," I told him. "Just wrong place, wrong time."  
  
"Part of her was right," Steve said angrily, leaning forward. "I take out my problems on other people too much."  
  
"She had no right to say what she said though," I countered.  
  
Steve shrugged and took a long drag on his cigarette, "She was gonna at some point. I dunno, it was time to move on." Bullshit, I thought. I wouldn't say he loved Evie, frankly because I didn't know, but I knew he cared about her a lot. Not as much as he may have cared about his cousin, but I think he and Evie could've been a happy couple, provided situations were different.  
  
Steve chucked his cigarette off the porch just as Anya, dressed in a black leather trench coat, came running down the steps excitedly. She had that giddy glee in her eyes that I absolutely loved.  
  
"Soda, look!" Clenched tightly in her hands were wads of crisp dollar bills. I took a good look at them. There had to be at least fifty dollars, possibly more. Steve was ecstatic, hugging Anya and yelling happily. Kat came out to see what was going on, and she gave Anya a warm hug as well.  
  
"Where'd you get this?" I asked out of the blue.  
  
Anya shrugged, "I got a summer job."  
  
I shrugged. Steve replied, "Damn, that summer job pays well! What is it?"  
  
"J-j-just a j-job," stuttered Anya. "It'll only be for a little while, it's to pay for our wedding and all." Anya took the money, stuffed it into her purse and asked, "Do you mind if I use the shower, Soda?"  
  
"Not at all," I told her. Anya then hurried inside, her dark blonde hair masking her face. Steve just sat on the porch, shaking his head in awe.  
  
"Little Anya got a job," he muttered, bemused. He saw me head down the stairs and called, "Where ya goin'?"  
  
"To find a minister," I called. "We need to know how much more money we need."  
  
DARRY  
  
Work is evil. I know I'm supposed to be mature and tell my brothers work is necessary, and normally it is. But I pulled out about two muscles after roofing Mrs. Reynolds' house, who is the worst employer ever and I wish would seriously take an attitude adjustment.  
  
I strolled into the house and sighed. No one was home but Kat, Steve, Soda and Anya. Soda and Anya were on the porch, cradling and holding one another lovingly. Steve was chain-smoking across from them on the porch, and Kat sat inside. Two-Bit and Pony were nowhere in sight. I was about to ask where Pony was and if he had any homework but I forgot that school was over. Glad that I didn't have to get in a fight with Pony, I stretched out on the armchair.  
  
Kat smiled, "Heya. Work reek?"  
  
"There isn't enough words in the English dictionary to tell you how much I hate working for Mrs. Reynolds," I sighed. We laughed briefly. "Hey, any luck with the job hunt?"  
  
Kat shook her head, "I stopped by the unemployment office. They said they'd get back to me in a while."  
  
I nodded, "That's good."  
  
"I guess."  
  
Silence followed in its wake. From the way Kat looked, she wasn't exactly what one would call hyper. I couldn't say I was up and about either.  
  
"Any news about the social worker?"  
  
"No," said Kat. "I think since I'm hiding out here she won't figure it out until a little while. That'll give me enough time to get back on my feet and look respectable."  
  
"You look fine the way you are."  
  
"No I don't. I look like a mobster's broad."  
  
"Not to me," I murmured. Kat was looking real down, her head in hands, thinking about something. "Let's go for a walk."  
  
Kat looked up to me, "Okay." I took her hand and led her outside. Soda was holding Anya in his lap, and called to me, "Where ya goin', Darry?"  
  
"For a walk, can you keep an ear out for Cloud?"  
  
"No problem, Darry." Soda went back to holding Anya while Kat and I walked down the street arm in arm. Kat wasn't wearing any sunglasses or heavy make-up to hide the bruises, and they looked better then they had been last night.  
  
We kept walking until we reached my old elementary school, where we stopped. Kat sat on the tire swing and I pushed her around. I wanted to make her laugh, but the scars from last night were just scabs, except these went beyond physical scars. They cut straight to her heart and drove a stake right down the middle.  
  
I sighed as I looked out at the harvest moon. I wanted everything to be better for all of us. When I was younger I never imagined I would be raising Soda and Pony on my own and working as a construction worker with minimum wage six days a week.  
  
Kat stared out into the distance. She looked like she was crying on the inside. Why? Was it Cloud, her mother, Julio? I tried to cheer her up, "Don't cry, Kat."  
  
Kat shook her wavy black hair, "Can't help it. I know I shouldn't be, it's just I'm worried about Cloud."  
  
"You mean by your mother taking her away?" I asked. Kat nodded. She sighed, "She's always been like this. I don't understand why she married my father, no offense meant to him, but he wasn't exactly the Harvard graduate if you know what I mean. Then she had Paul, who only wanted to get the hell out of here to go off to someplace he liked. There's Crick, who drifts and has no direction. Then she had me, who got pregnant at eighteen and is barely surviving on a high school graduation."  
  
"Don't talk like that, Kat," I told her, leaning against the tire swing. "I'm just a high school graduate working at roofing houses. I'm not exactly what one would call perfect either."  
  
Kat shook her head, gazing out at the abandoned playground, "No, but you're pretty damn close." I looked over at her. I wanted to gather her in my arms and hold her. I wanted to make her problems go away. I wanted too much. Sometimes this fantasy I daydream in kills me, because I know it'll never be that simple.  
  
I leaned over and kissed her on the lips. It was like swimming in champagne, just calm and peace. I leaned back and sat on the tire swing beside her. We just kept swinging. 


	8. Chapter Eight

AUTHOR'S NOTE-OK, I have some thank you's I want to give out. Starstruck, thank you for the review, and I love your "Stranger Steve stared" story. Please continue!! SodasGurl, wow, I'm totally flattered by your review. Don't worry, in this chapter, you'll find out what Sandy's up to. ;). By the way, keep up the weirdness! Bega, I took your idea and used it. I had nearly forgotten that Darry wasn't up to date on Pony's whereabouts. And thank you, Karlei Shaynner, for the review. What's with me these days *audience groans as they prepare for long anecdote*? Well, school's rotting my brain because school just.sucks and I heard the original rendition of "Lady Marmalade" (hehe, everyone at my school thinks the lyrics are just made up words. Silly kids). This chapter's kind of a build-up chapter. I think you can handle Spike's non- stop cussing. I also realized I needed some sort of theme (at least, that's what my former language arts teacher pounded into our little packaged and processed minds) so I decided to pick something about fate. Clever, huh? If it comes out corny, then I'll probably just delete all mention of that theme. But, yeah, I'm gonna shut up, but here ya guys go!  
  
CHAPTER EIGHT  
  
PONY  
  
By the time I sneaked back home, it was pretty late. Thankfully, not late enough for Darry to be home, but the others would've noticed my leave of absence. I kept thinking about Sarah. With Randy. Alone. I couldn't stand the thought. Why did she have to say yes to Randy? He was just another Soc. And then it hit me. Sarah was a Soc, and so was Randy. From an outsider looking in, it would make perfect sense for Sarah and Randy to be dating.  
  
Hands hitched in my jean pockets, I kicked up pebbles as I walked up the stairs. Anya and Soda were sitting on the porch, hand in hand, Anya's head resting on Soda's shoulder. Soda was whispering sweet nothings in Anya's ear, and I saw her giggle. Her dark blonde hair was soaking wet, probably because she had just taken a shower. Steve was sitting on the other side of the porch, sighing, his visage dark, clouded and angry. Something had annoyed Steve today, and I wasn't going to go anywhere near him.  
  
"Hey Pony," Anya and Soda said together. Isn't it nauseating when couples speak in unison? "Where ya been?"  
  
"Out," I mumbled bitterly. Why was I acting so sour? I knew why, though. Sarah. Randy. Tonight. Sweat drenched my clammy fists. I shouldn't be taking it out on Soda and Anya though. They were two of the kindest people I had ever met. Selfishly, I didn't want Soda to move away, out into the harsh real world where people would stomp all over the little flowerbed Anya would plant behind their little white picket fences, where they would grow their own food and live happily ever after. The world wasn't meant for people like them. It was meant for people like Dally, cold people who had hardened themselves past sensitivity. It was meant for Spike, who merely skated through life on the fact that his parents had big bucks, which had now been cruelly taken from him.  
  
I wanted to yell this out, to holler at the moon and warn the masses about this. I had seen the world. I had seen what the world had done to others. It left them curled up in a ball on the floor, sobbing, their tongues rough form licking their wounds. I wanted to tell Soda and Anya and Kat and Darry and all the others about this new truth that I had single handedly discovered. But I merely muttered, "Downtown mostly," and stepped inside to get away from all the reality.  
  
Two-Bit was in his usual position of sitting on the floor, cake stuffed in mouth, beer bottle in his hands. In the kitchen, Kat was washing dishes, her hair tied in a tight braid, wisps of hair fighting to mask the cuts and swollen bruises covering her face. She smiled wearily at me, "Hey Pony."  
  
"Hey Kat." She went back to washing dishes with dirt under her fingernails. I stretched myself across the couch and picked up Les Miserables. It was hard to concentrate and focus on since Two-Bit had the TV blasting on full volume. Since I was in a rotten enough mood, I took it out on him and Donald Duck, "You mind turning that fucking TV down?!"  
  
Two-Bit stared up at me, wide eyed and startled. I never swore like that. Two-Bit took a swig of beer before dealing with me, "What the hell is your problem?"  
  
"I'm trying to read here and it's pretty damn hard to focus with you blaring friggin' Mickey Mouse to the whole God damned neighborhood," I hissed.  
  
"Boys, don't fight," begged Kat. Cloud started crying and she hurried in to comfort her. Normally I wouldn't have picked this fight and stopped right there, but I was on a roll now, so I figured I shouldn't back out of this fight.  
  
"Who ever listens to stuff on normal levels?" asked Two-Bit. I think he realized I was pissed. "Hey, hey, this ain't about the TV, ain't it?"  
  
"Shut up," I cursed, burying my face two inches from the paperback copy. Unfortunately, I couldn't recover from that, and Two-Bit caught my stumble.  
  
"It's about a girl, ain't it?"  
  
"What makes you think that?"  
  
"Little Pony's growing up!" shouted Two-Bit. "Lemme guess, it's that Soc, huh? The good lookin' one you rescued earlier, huh?"  
  
"No, it isn't." Liar. I was completely denying it. I don't think I exactly liked Sarah. It's just she made me think and care for others and all this shit that greasers weren't supposed to feel. Was that some sort of twisted form of love?  
  
"Pony likes a Soc!" catcalled Two-Bit, singing a little ditty. I cut in by the second verse.  
  
"We were talking and now she's out having a fucking good time with a god damned Soc, happy?!" I was practically screaming by then, but it went in one ear and out the other for Two-Bit.  
  
"Here, how 'bout this. I'm going out on a date with Bambi tonight. She's got a friend, what's her name, Moonbeam or somethin'? It'll be like a, whadya call it, double date or somethin'."  
  
"What ever happened to Tallulah?"  
  
"Who?" asked Two-Bit. I didn't feel like re-explaining to Two-Bit that he and Tallulah would have a on again, off again relationship, but I continued to argue.  
  
"I wanna stay home--"  
  
"No!" yelled Two-Bit, jumping on the couch, "you're comin' with me and Bambi. I'm calling her now and telling her to bring Moonbeam--" Two-Bit ran to the phone, and I dashed to beat him. I was back on the track team, but he had the head start and beat me. He was already dialing his latest girl's number, "Hey, Bambi? Yeah, my friend wants to tag along with us, bring another one of your girls. Okay? Great. Pick ya up." Two-Bit hung up, and I was slamming my head against the wall. I had no choice but to go now. Sighing, I walked into the bathroom and put as much hair grease on as physically possible. Soda and I had the tuffest hair in the 'hood, so I was real proud of mine.  
  
Two-Bit literally had to drag me from the bathroom when it was time to pick up the girls. I wanted no part of this. I wanted to stay home and read and mourn for the fact that Sarah was out having a good time with Randy Adderson and I was stuck with some greasy broad. Trenches from where my fingernails were firmly emplaced furrowed deeply into the walls.  
  
"Have fun, Pony!" called Soda. How sick of him. I finally began walking on my own, but I trudged behind Two-Bit. We walked to the drive-in after chasing two freshmen around.  
  
"There they are," Two-Bit said, raking a comb through his hair. "Be nice, 'kay?" I sighed. Did I have a choice in the matter? Two-Bit was wearing his members only jacket. He loved that jacket, and told me that all the ladies loved it as well. I found that hard to believe, but I wasn't in the mood to question his beliefs.  
  
I could tell exactly which one was Bambi and which one was Moonbeam. Like most of Two-Bit's harem of blondes, Bambi had long dyed blonde hair with sticks for legs. She could count her brain cells on her fingers. Her pink bubble popped as she dashed to Two-Bit and threw her arms around him. The two didn't take much time to cut formalities and start making out.  
  
Moonbeam was actually kind of pretty. A beaded headband covered a bit of her midnight black hair. She was wearing one hoop earring and a T-shirt splashed with various colors. Flip flops were on her feet and she was carrying a bouquet of daisies.  
  
"You must be Moonbeam," I stated rather then asked.  
  
Moonbeam nodded, "I go by that name now, fellow brother." By now, Two-Bit and Bambi were very preoccupied, lips pressed against one another in futile attempt to find something meaningful. Tongues slithered across one another's lips, but nothing was there. Just pure physical contact. I sighed and shook my head. Sitting in the last row of a Nightly Double watching your buddy make out with a bimbo wasn't exactly the highlight of my evening. Moonbeam was sitting there, picking the petals off of her daisies and watching them flutter to the ground. She seemed off in left field, but I figured it was better then nothing.  
  
"So.Moonbeam, what do you do in your spare time?" There. Safe question. Boy, was I wrong.  
  
"I rebel against anything the elderly believe," Moonbeam said, her voice misty. "Never trust anyone over thirty is what I say! They don't understand what we go through these days!  
  
"I protest against the evil government. I live in a commune. I promote peace and love to all non believers," insisted Moonbeam. She dug in her beaded purse and pulled out a piece of paper. I saw her nimble fingers shaking as she took out a small vial and let its contents bleed through the paper. I watched her tongue lick the liquid sacredly, as if to savor it all. I'd seen Chris and the other Socs taking it down at the drugstore. It was a hallucinogenic drug, LSD to be specific.  
  
"Make love, not war," murmured Moonbeam. She began to shut down and let the drug run its course. I slouched, cross-armed. I could smell its scent, taunting me to take a try. Two-Bit and Bambi were still making out, and now Moonbeam was entering some alternate dimension. At that moment I was thinking only how could this get worse.  
  
It did. Knowing my luck, of course. It happened that just as "Beach Blanket Bingo" ended, I saw Sarah and Randy sneak in. Biting the side of my mouth, I felt tears swell at the corners of my eyes. Sarah seemed to be having a good time. With Randy. I could see her laughing, her dark blonde hair lifted in the gentle summer breeze. The moon's glow illuminated her olive green eyes.  
  
I hated my life. I wanted to take a shovel and bury myself six feet underground. Away from Sarah and Randy and Moonbeam and Bambi and even ol' Two-Bit. Away from it all.  
  
"I gotta go," I told Moonbeam. She didn't notice. She probably didn't care. She was too busy blowing her life by having violent hallucinations. I tapped Two-Bit's shoulder. He didn't notice until I snatched the shoulder of his members only jacket and said firmly, "We need to go, Two- Bit."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Two-Bit grumbled. He said a quick goodbye to Bambi, who was happily compensated by taking Moonbeam's LSD. Two-Bit didn't seem mad. He skipped along with me, humming an ol' Elvis tune. That was Two-Bit for you.  
  
The image of Sarah and Randy burned in my mind's eye, tattooing it permanently. As nice of guy as Randy was, I didn't think he would fully understand someone has deep as Sarah. I spent the rest of the walk home imagining ways for Randy to humiliate himself. Call me immature.  
  
"Hey Two-Bit?" I asked.  
  
"Yeah.?"  
  
"Do you believe in fate?" It was a nagging question that had bothered me for a long time. Earlier I had been thinking about how if I had never skipped out of the dance with Two-Bit and went to the 7-11 I would've never met Sarah, and that disturbed me a little. What annoyed me more was Sarah was supposed to be with me, not Randy Adderson. I sighed and kicked a moderately sized pebble out of my way.  
  
"I guess," Two-Bit said. He laughed, half crocked, "Tallulah and I met through fate. I got a funny story to tell you about that. One day, at Buck's, I walked back to the 'fridge to get some beer. Well, guess who was waiting there to get beer as well? Tallulah Beckett. So we were standing there, but there was only one Heineken left. It turned out it was her beer- of-choice as well!"  
  
"And then."  
  
Two-Bit continued, glass eyed, "Well, here's the deal. It was a choice between beer and a real nice looking chick. So Tallulah stood there, licking her lips, practically begging for me to give her the cold beer in my hands..."  
  
"So what'd you do?" I asked.  
  
"What'd you think I did? I took the beer and ran!" Two-Bit cackled. He sighed, "Tallulah Beckett, whadya think? She the one for me?"  
  
"Bambi's a prize piece, isn't she?" I asked sarcastically.  
  
Two-Bit shrugged, "One date material." I was a little shocked. He and Bambi had practically spent the entire date making out. It was nothing more then physical contact, searching for something meaningful. As for Tallulah, he had just forgotten her name just an hour ago. Shrugging, I continued to trot beside him. My head ached from all the thinking I had done today. I needed a rest. A nice, long rest.  
  
SPIKE  
  
Miserable God damned bastards, I thought, bitterly downing my twelfth shot glass. I glared angrily at my fellow patrons. What the hell were they doing in my bar? I hated them. All of them. I hated him and her and him and him and him and her and oh fuck, that whore looks like Adrienne, who I so dearly remember taking the news of my parents' bankruptcy by taking off with my best friend, Chris, who also took the news wonderfully by ousting me from my social clique. Bastard. Bitch.  
  
I blame my parents for this. Why hadn't they said no when I demanded a new car or whatever latest possession I desperately needed to have? Neither of them understood why I stormed out of the house-oh, that's right, I don't live in a house anymore, I live in a crummy fucking apartment. Where the water is brown and the sheets aren't made of imported silk. It's their entire God damned fault I'm here at Charlie's fucking bar drinking fucking cheap alcohol that the Socs I'd hang with would have spat in before drinking.  
  
I saw some fucking Hispanic with his blonde whore stride towards me. What the hell did they want? To laugh and mock at me because I was one of them, white trash? Fuck them. The Hispanic, who's nose looked uneven and was wearing a white bandana, sat down beside me, his blonde bitch sitting comfortably in his lap. Fucking greasers.  
  
I saw the Hispanic's mouth moving, but I was so drunk it felt like I was watching a bad Asian kung-fu movie. My brain felt like it was trying to split out of my skull and run around screaming. I heard the Hispanic, who was talking to his ho, say, "This the Soc?"  
  
"Positive," the blonde said, her lips no longer moving. God, I'd been shitfaced before, but I don't ever remember being it this bad. "Julio, how is this going to help me get back at Soda?"  
  
"Watch, my pet," the Hispanic hood, Julio, told her. He turned to me, "You the Soc they called Spike?"  
  
"Used to be," I slurred. Charlie, the bartender, walked by and I snapped my fingers, demanding another beer. He sighed and poured another glass. I downed it and turned back to the Hispanic, "What the hell do you want?"  
  
"You hate those greaser hoods, the Curtis'," Julio asked, looking to his broad for confirmation. She nodded. She was actually pretty hot. I'd like to take her home some time.  
  
"Yeah," I muttered. I then went on cheerfully naming them every expletive under the sun. Is that what they were called, the Curtis'? Burn in hell, all of them. Especially that young smartass, Ponykid or something. He took away the best broad I ever had. Sarah. Or was it Sasha?  
  
"Well, me and my woman here got a grudge against them also," Julio said, his hand clamping on his broad's bony hip. From how shitfaced I was, his mouth was higher then his face.  
  
"That's great for you."  
  
Julio smile charismatically, "I got a way we can strike back at all of 'em."  
  
"That's just peachy." I stood to leave, get away from these hoods. I was nothing like them. I had class, I had style, and I had just tripped over my feet and fell face first into the ground. The Hispanic's woman, Sandy, caught me and helped me up. She didn't look healthy enough to hold up her own body, let alone someone else's. I noticed as she helped me up that her left eye was a dark blackish blue. So her man beat her. Big fucking deal.  
  
"Willing to listen?" asked Julio.  
  
This guy was just another hood. I could easily take him and his hooker down. What did I have to lose? I shrugged and mumbled, "What do you have?"  
  
DARRY  
  
"Where is that kid?" I asked. Wonderland was over. Kat and I had slogged back to the house. We hadn't been gone for very long, which seemed even shorter then it actually was. Anya and Soda were still on the unofficial honeymoon. Anya was now sitting on the porch railing, her tan legs dangling off the ground, sucking on a lollipop and giggling at Soda's natural charm. Steve had grown bored and was now in the living room, lying fast asleep in the armchair.  
  
"Hey Soda, has Pony showed up?" I asked.  
  
Soda looked up from Anya and shrugged, "He left an hour ago."  
  
"Yeah," Anya said. "Two-Bit wanted to take him out on a double date because he seemed lonely since that Soc turned him down and I wasn't supposed to tell that, huh?" Soda nodded. Anya blushed bashfully. It wasn't her fault she was too trusting. She was a good kid.  
  
"Wait, who's this Soc?" I asked.  
  
Soda shrugged, "Some girl he met. I think it was the one at the DX that her ex got all mad at Pony for talking to her or something." He looked to Anya to verify details. She shrugged indifferently.  
  
"He should be home then," I said, shifting into parental mode. "Remember the last time a Soc had a grudge against Pony?"  
  
"Relax, Darry. It's summer, so you can't say he needs to be home studying," Soda argued. I understood how he felt about our kid brother; they were close, closer then I could ever hope to achieve. In some ways I envied him for that.  
  
"Yeah, but if you haven't forgotten, staying up late is why Johnny and Dally ended up dead," I said.  
  
"Pony!" shouted Anya, waving her hand. Realizing what she had done, she clasped her hands over her mouth, "Oops." I saw Pony and Two-Bit walking home, taking their time.  
  
"Ponyboy Michael Curtis!" Frankly, I was glad he was back safe and alive, and Soda and Anya had managed to forget to tell me that Two-Bit was with him. "Mind explaining about this little grudge you've got against some Soc, what's his name?"  
  
"Spike," blurted Soda. He looked sheepishly over at an angry Pony.  
  
"Spike, mind 'splaining to the class 'bout this?" I asked.  
  
"I think I'm going to go in and check up on Cloud." Kat said, making a swift exit. She kissed me on the cheek before hurrying inside.  
  
Pony shrugged, "It's no big deal."  
  
"No big deal?" I asked, hands on hips. "Remember Bob--" He never let me finish. I wanted to paste duct tape across my mouth. That whole subject was a touchy one, especially around Pony.  
  
"Of course I remember Bob!" he shouted. "I remember it all! It's been burned in my memory since the day it happened!"  
  
"I didn't mean to--"  
  
"You never mean to!" Pony shouted back. This irritated me. Pony always would try playing the guilt trip. And it always worked.  
  
"You're grounded," I muttered under my breath. I pointed to Soda and Anya, "And don't stick up for him. This is just till things clear up."  
  
Strangely, Pony nodded grudgingly, "Yeah, yeah, I understand." That was a first. I was fully expecting him to argue with me. Anya must've been right; he must've felt real lousy to not argue with me.  
  
"Hey Darry?" I turned back to see Pony. He DID look lousy.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Do you believe in fate?" I thought about that for a moment. My eyes glazed over the kitchen window, where I saw Kat bouncing a moaning Cloud on her hip. I thought of that day when Crick had offered a ride home. What if I had never met Kat? Soft lullabies filled my ears. And as I stood there, eyes affixed upon a maternally Kat, I realized that I wanted to be with Kat, and that there was a such thing as fate. It worked out real well in my case.  
  
"Darry.?"  
  
"No," I lied stiffly, and then hurried inside.  
  
SODA  
  
How the hell was I supposed to scrape up fifty more dollars? That next morning I had stopped by the church (hard to imagine, me inside an actual church) and asked the local minister how much money it would take for Anya and I had to be married. I think he recognized me from the last time we showed up, where Steve ended up dropping the Bible and the whole entire mass turned to stare at us and Two-Bit waved back at them. It was actually pretty funny, but I don't think Pony found it as amusing as the rest of us.  
  
I wasn't sure if the minister was going to die of shock over two greasers marrying, or that I was asking His Holiness to allow us to wed. Either way, I think he purposely upped the price. I knew I didn't go to church for a reason.  
  
Work was going by slower then ever. Two-Bit and Steve, now single, were trying to pick up on girls, who didn't seem to mind being showered with the extra attention. I think part of the reason Steve had joined in with Two-Bit was because he was taking Evie's departure harder then he was letting on. Pony was sitting off to the side with his composition book, writing away. Anya looked depressed and tired, and had cloaked herself in a black leather trench coat. I tried cheering her up, and she would occasionally smile, mostly because she didn't like me being sad. Sometimes it hurt me when Anya would shut me out because we told one another everything. We'd spend hours just talking over everything. When she'd get moody and depressed there was nothing I could do but wait it out.  
  
"Hey Soda?" It was Pony.  
  
"Yeah?" I asked.  
  
"Do you believe in fate?" Great. Now Pony was in one of his deep moods. He'd asked Darry this question last night. I looked to Anya, arms wrapped around her knees, which she kept close to her chest. I had known Anya a good portion of my life; she would always come down and visit Steve. When Dally was-alive--he'd always make sure to watch his cussing around her. I don't know if having Anya move in with Steve would be considered fate, because her parents were always bums, but still, I liked to think it was.  
  
"Yeah, why?"  
  
"Just curious." Pony went back to writing. I saw Anya sigh heavily, stand up and make a beeline towards me. Her face was set and determined. Rarely she had this look, and I wasn't sure what to make of it.  
  
"Soda, I'm going to head to work," Anya said quickly, kissing me on the lips. She turned and was about to make a swift exit, her black trench coat covering her curves.  
  
"Anya?" I asked. I saw her stop and then turn around slowly, "Yes?"  
  
"How are we going to get the money?" I asked.  
  
Anya walked over to me and placed a delicate hand on my cheek. She stared lovingly into my eyes and whispered, "Don't worry. I'll take care of everything, okay, Soda?"  
  
I nodded, "That summer job, right?"  
  
"Right," Anya said, her face darkening. She covered her emotions immediately thereafter. Apparently, she'd gotten a job at the 7-11 Larry used to work at. I still didn't understand how she'd made all that money, but apparently she'd been saving up.  
  
"I love you," she whispered back at me, and kissed me on the forehead, "Don't you ever forget that." And as quickly as she had stepped into my life, she disappeared out the door. I sighed and hung my head. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kat carrying little Cloud stroll by. I guess she had become one of the gang, for Two-Bit and Steve ran up to her like little kids running to their mother. When Steve had told Kat about breaking up with Evie, she baked him cookies. Cookies! With the bittersweet chocolate chips! I don't think his own mother had ever baked cookies for him in his entire life. Then again, if your mother were getting shoved around so much I don't think she'd have time to sit around baking cookies.  
  
I walked out to join the gang. Kat seemed real ecstatic and was waving a folded letter around. She called my name, "Soda, come here! I got a job!" I ran over to the gang. Kat needed a job desperately. Her kid didn't look too healthy, and I don't think she could pay for a doctor's visit, so this job coming along was perfect.  
  
"Where is it?" asked Steve.  
  
Kat beamed, "7-11! Yeah, I know it isn't the best place to work, but I just need to get enough money to get Cloud here some medicine, buy some food and then hopefully rent out an apartment--"  
  
"Ah, don't move out!" Two-Bit begged.  
  
Kat didn't notice his comment, and instead noticed my face darken, "What's wrong, Soda?"  
  
"7-11? Where?" I asked.  
  
"The north side of town. Thankfully, I managed to escape graveyard shift, but the pay's good!" replied Kat. "Why?"  
  
"Anya said she was working at 7-11," I told her.  
  
"That's impossible," Kat argued. "There was only one job opening left, and that was because Larry left. I asked the boss and he said no one had even applied."  
  
"Then Anya's been lying to me about where she got that money," I said coldly. I bit my lip, and the group's mood was crushed. Leave it to me to ruin everyone's mood. "And I'm going to find out tonight." 


	9. Chapter Nine

AUTHOR'S NOTE-Okay, chapter nine! Yay! This chapter's kind of strange because, well, I wrote it in an odd mood. A couple days ago I came down with something so I was just sitting around, enjoying staying home from school much more then I actually should. I'm back at school though and feel better!  
  
Besides that, there are some people I need to thank. TimeTravller, thank you, and you'll just have to wait and see. ;). SodasGurl, I got your e- mail, thanks for the reviews, I'm glad you guys are getting so into the story. Everyone at my school always complains about my writing, so I was considering quitting on it. Bega, lol, yeah, writing Pony in a bad mood was a great form of anger management. :P. Starstruck, thanks for the positive review and the note on the theme, I wasn't sure whether it'd come out corny or not. And thanks, Karlei, again for the great review, and I'll tell you this; you'll find out what Anya is up to.  
  
Today I actually got in trouble because we needed to write this paper for school (hehe, SodasGurl, one of the prompts was "Sandy kept repeating 'I don't believe in ghosts, I don't believe in ghosts.') and I couldn't think of anything because there A. wasn't any music playing and it was too quiet and B. we had to handwrite it. So I got in trouble because I wrote nothing. Grrr *snarls madly*.ok, got that venting out. Here's chapter nine for ya, I'll go back to munching on Orange Milanos and watching bad television.  
  
CHAPTER NINE  
  
DARRY  
  
You notice how Sundays are supposed to be the calming day of the week? The week you unwind and relax? This Sunday was anything but relaxing. All I wanted to do was take a long nap. Nearly everyone had stopped by at the DX, but I simply wanted to spend the day with Kat.  
  
"I've got a job!" she cried excitedly as she hurried into house. Cloud was moaning and crying, and Kat whispered, "Shhh.I'll get you some medicine tonight. Darry, do you know where you keep the thermometer?"  
  
"Yeah, in the cabinet over the sink."  
  
"Thanks, Darry!" she called. I tucked Cloud in on the couch as Kat gave her a thermometer. She hushed Cloud and sat down beside her, the back of her hand on Cloud's forehead. Sighing, Kat smiled wearily at me, "Hey."  
  
"Hey," I whispered back. I was stretched out in my armchair, newspaper laid across my lap. She leaned over and we had a brief kiss before Cloud began fussing. Kat took out the thermometer.  
  
"Damn, 103, I can't take you out," Kat said softly.  
  
"Damn! Damn! Damn!" chattered Cloud. I laughed softly.  
  
Kat's hands flew to her mouth, "No, forget Mommy said that, okay?" Now that Kat had told her not to repeat it, Cloud began to yell it at louder decibels. Kat gave up and sighed.  
  
"I still need to get dinner on the table," murmured Kat.  
  
"I'll take care of Cloud, you handle the dinner," I told her. Kat smiled, kissed me softly on the forehead and then plopped Cloud straight into my lap. Cloud was sniffling, and whining softly.  
  
"Shhh," I hushed. "Come here, come to Papa." I stopped myself. I just referred to Cloud as my daughter. I felt a little uncomfortable. The truth was I wasn't Cloud's real father. Her real father was an idiot too busy beating up his ex girlfriend and selling drugs. At that moment I wanted more then anything to be her father. But as I watched Cloud look up with me with big, brown eyes, I didn't care that I wasn't biological. Cloud meant something to me, and that's what mattered. I held her close to my body, and then dozed off.  
  
I woke up about fifteen minutes later. Kat had now set the table and was sitting at a chair, sipping coffee and staring out the window. She looked over to catch my eye and smiled tiredly. I looked down, fully expecting to see Cloud there. She wasn't.  
  
As if to answer my question, Kat replied, "She's in your room." I nodded. Kat stood up and walked over to me, sitting down in my lap. She started to run her free hand through my hair. I loved it when she did that, and I wrapped my arms around her waist. I gave her a little plastic ring I had found in a box of Cracker Jack's and slipped it on her finger as a joke. She laughed and we just sat there together for a while in peace.  
  
"I need to go get medicine," Kat teased.  
  
"It can wait."  
  
"Can it?"  
  
"You tell me." Kat giggled and whipped her black hair behind her. It was the first time we really had alone to ourselves. I was always working, and Kat had Cloud, so it was nice to just have alone time. She lifted my chin up to meet her face, and we started to kiss.  
  
The doorbell rang. We ignored it at first, but whoever was there was desperate to get through, and continued to buzz.  
  
I sighed and murmured, "I swear, I'm getting that doorbell removed." Kat chuckled as I stood up and strolled over to the door. I opened it to see who was there. A lanky, black woman in a plaid gray suit with her graying brown hair tied in a tight bun stood before me.  
  
"Can I help you?" I asked.  
  
"Yes, I believe you can. Does a Katerina Noreiga reside here?"  
  
"Yeah," called Kat, walking up to stand beside me. "Can I help you?"  
  
"Yes. Eleanor Fisher, I work for social services," she held out her hand, and Kat looked at it skeptically. Ms. Fisher continued, "I have been sent here by the orders of Mrs. Rubella Rigby. You need to turn over your custodial rights and deliver your daughter." She looked at her clipboard, and then primly said, "Cloud Evita Noriega, two years of age I believe?"  
  
"I'm sorry, I know no one by the name of Rubella Rigby," Kat stated. It was rather convincing, to tell the truth.  
  
Ms. Fisher shook her head, "You already lied to the hospital staff about your age when you had little Cloud, Ms. Noriega. Hand over the child and everything will be fine."  
  
"I'm not giving you my girl," Kat said.  
  
"Ms. Noriega," Ms. Fisher protested calmly, "unless you can prove to me that you are living in a substantial home, I am forced to take your child from you."  
  
"We're married," I blurted. Stunned, Kat and Ms. Fisher turned to me. I held up the finger with Kat's Cracker Jack ring on it, "See?"  
  
"Oh.oh!" exclaimed Kat. She played along. "Right. Married. Last June, actually. Beautiful wedding, actually, honey."  
  
"I still think we should've gone with the cheesecake," I argued. It was like having an out of body experience. I was lying to authorities. Kind of a power trip, actually.  
  
"I see," Ms. Fisher said skeptically. I don't think she believed us, but I saw a smile tug at the corner of her thin, pursed lips, "May I take a look around at your house, Mr. and Mrs.."  
  
"Curtis," I told her. "Mr. and Mrs. Darrel Curtis."  
  
"Thank you," she said, taking out a pen and jotting down my name. "Mrs. Rigby never mentioned her daughter being wed."  
  
"Mom has kind of a rather short term memory," lied Kat easily. Ms. Fisher stepped inside and looked appraisingly around. Chucking a flannel T-shirt behind the armchair, I tried to keep up a phony smile.  
  
"Where do you work, Mr. Curtis?" asked Ms. Fisher.  
  
"I'm a construction worker."  
  
"Ok, and you, Mrs. Curtis, if that's your legal name."  
  
"No, I didn't change mine," stated Kat. "I work as a cashier."  
  
"Hmmm.very well," continued Ms. Fisher, marking off our every answer as if she was interviewing us for a job. She then started to take a tour around the house. After agonizing moments of waiting for Ms. Fisher to make a decision, she looked over to the two of us and smiled, "Well, Mrs. Rigby indeed must have been mistaken. You two seem to be efficient parents. It's so nice to see two young people marrying these days instead of shacking off."  
  
"Yeah," agreed Kat. "Thank you so much, Ms. Fisher."  
  
"Do not thank me, thank yourselves," Ms. Fisher said. "I will send a report back to the office telling them we no longer need to investigate you anymore." Kat and Ms. Fisher made small talk and Kat closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"Thank you," she said, sliding to the floor. "For covering for me back there."  
  
"I wasn't covering," I said.  
  
"What?" asked Kat, laughing.  
  
"I want to marry you, Kat." Kat covered her face as if she had been thrown out of the frying pan, into the fire. "What?"  
  
"Darry, I don't know if I want to marry you yet--"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Darry, it's not that I don't love you, or that I don't want to marry you-- "  
  
"So you've just been mooching off me?" I asked.  
  
Kat shook her head, "No! Not at all."  
  
"Really?" I asked unbelieving.  
  
"I'm only twenty okay!" shouted Kat. "I don't know jack shit! I thought I knew the man I wanted to marry at eighteen! You know what, I don't! My kid's sick, I'm broke--"  
  
"I can't believe it," I said disgusted. "You used me!"  
  
"No!" pleaded Kat. "I love you, Darry! I know that for a fact!"  
  
"Then why don't you marry me?" I asked. Kat didn't have a reply to that. I saw her look away, refusing to leave her seat from the floor. A single tear rolled down her cheek. I wasn't sure whether to yell at her or to gather her up in my arms and kiss her, glad that she had walked into my life.  
  
"I don't know," she whispered.  
  
"I know," I replied. "It's because you act like you can just come in here and hide your emotions. And you're afraid. You're afraid of having someone take your heart in their hands and actually love it for who you are. With Julio, he just broke it and left the pieces to be put back together by someone else."  
  
"Oh, and I'm the weird one?" asked Kat. "What about you!"  
  
"Me?" I asked, caught off guard.  
  
"Yeah! You always act like you know everything and you're in charge but you have no control over your life, and that pisses you off!"  
  
"What?!" I asked, trying to hide the fact that she was uncomfortably right.  
  
"Don't lie, Darry!" cried Kat. I hate it when girls cry. I know Pony and Soda hate it as well. We stood there, or in Kat's case sat, for ages on end. Kat whispered, "I love you, Darry. It nearly killed me when you said I was using you."  
  
"I know," I murmured. "I'm sorry.I don't want to lose you."  
  
"Don't speak," she begged. I sat down beside her, against the door. When I was younger, I used to wonder why my mother and teachers would say under their breaths, "Silence is golden". Now I know why. There weren't any words needed to express what we were feeling. I looked over to Kat. She had been crying all her life. I had sworn to myself I would never make her cry. I just did.  
  
Silence isn't what's it's cracked up to be.  
  
ANYA  
  
Glitter blinded my face as I gazed into the mirror. Deep down, I hated myself. I hated myself for what I had done. I bit the inside of my mouth as I idly played with the make-up brush. Inside I was crying. The bright lights, the sneering, whorish women surrounding me, I wanted them all to disappear.  
  
I sighed. Soda would never know. I had done this for Soda. I think I cared for Soda more then anything in my entire lifetime. Soda would understand, I told myself. He'd appreciate the great sacrifice I had made and then hold me forever and everything would be wonderful because that's how it was supposed to be.  
  
"Hey hey, pussycat, you made the most out of any my girls here." I heard a Boston accent, and turned in my chair to face the voice. It was Proteus, a scrawny, petite, balding 30 year old who owned the club. He had a gold tooth and a bowl hat with a rooster's feather.  
  
I glared at him as he spoke, waving the dollar bills in my face, "You're our best worker here, pussycat. Yeah."  
  
"Give me the money, Proteus, I earned it."  
  
"Nope," Proteus said, snatching the money away from my clutches. "You want the cash, you gotta work for it. Why don't you come upstairs and we can.talk business, huh?" I watched his tongue lick his lips savagely. Disgusted, I shoved him away, but he grabbed my wrists. The other girls thought this was funny, and cheered Proteus on. My hand clawed its way to the bottle of pepper spray I carried, and I sprayed it in his face. He cried for mercy as he crashed into the other girls. Snatching the fallen money, I stuffed them in my purse, robed myself protectively in my black leather trench coat and stormed out of the door. Kitty Katz was behind me.  
  
It was getting late out, and the sun was setting. I counted the dollar bills. Seventy five dollars all together. This could pay for everything. Sighing, I continued to stroll down the streets. No one was going to know, I told myself. I did what I had to do. It was for a good cause. Little, innocent Anya was no longer little or innocent. I put behind everything that had happened. I felt dirty, and needed a nice, long shower. Tonight I had resigned from the underground life. Nobody could touch me and Soda anymore. This was all for Sodapop.  
  
"Hey little girl in the trench coat." I had lost track of where I was going, and found myself walking down a darkly lit street alley in a rough side of town. The voice reminded me of English leather and shaving cream and cheap vodka. I kept walking. I heard heavy footsteps behind me.  
  
"Little girl, slow down. Papa can't catch up with you."  
  
"Leave me alone!" I shouted. I whipped around to see my attacker. I had the night vision of a cat, and I saw a tall, lanky blonde haired teenager. His dark, unrelenting beady eyes stared directly at me. It was the Soc that hated Pony. He looked awful, unhealthily thin and pale. What did he want with me?  
  
Before I could do anything, he grabbed my wrists. I screamed for mercy, but he covered my mouth. I bit his hand, and tasted the blood. He swore bitterly. Remembering I had left my pepper spray at the club, I tried to grab my switchblade. I wasn't afraid to kill this Soc, preferably just scare him off. Squeezing painful pressure onto my wrist, the blade dropped from my clutches, followed by my entire purse.  
  
"Shh, shh," he hushed, "don't fight, little girl." Attempting to knee him in the groin, he unfortunately twisted and his body crashed on top of mine. I fell to the ground, and tried to grab my switchblade. It was too far out of my reach.  
  
"Nooo!" I gasped. "Get lost!"  
  
"I'm thinking quite the opposite," the Soc, Spike, said. I couldn't struggle too much anymore. I screamed. No one heard.  
  
PONY  
  
There's always that calm before the storm, that single moment when you realize what everything has been building up to. It's always strange to look back and point out that specific moment. Sometimes you wonder what would happen if you did this, or that, and spend the entire time second guessing yourself and playing 20 questions. Tonight, all hell was about to break loose.  
  
Walking the streets at night was dangerous, which was precisely why I did it. Soda and Steve had jetted off home, to confront Anya and find out what she was up to. Believing Anya had a perfectly wise excuse, I decided to tag along with Two-Bit and cruise around. We met up with these two punks, Bryon and Mark, at a diner not to ofar from the one Two-Bit's mother worked at. Mark was a tuff enough guy, could hot wire and shoplift better then anyone. Bryon, however, hated me. I had no idea why. I didn't particularly care either.  
  
Figuring that Two-Bit, Mark and Bryon were going to talk my ears off, I managed to slip out and call Sarah on a pay phone. I needed to talk to her badly. I had practically pined for her, though the image of her and Randy still was burned crisply in my mind. I put a quarter in and dialed her number.  
  
"Hello?" A female voice answered. I believe in fate, and I realized that fate nudged me right at that moment. Figuring that it was some ritzy member of her family, so I replied, "Hello, Miss van Pelt?"  
  
The voice was dead air, and what happened next surprised me. The woman barked, "What kind of sick joke is this? Ms. van Pelt ran off years ago!"  
  
"What?" I asked. Ms. van Pelt? I was referring to Miss van Pelt, as in Sarah van Pelt. What was this she was saying about Mrs. van Pelt running off?  
  
"Caroline van Pelt ran off years ago, everyone in the town knows that. What kind of sick person would rub that into a poor girl like Sarah?" Wait. Sarah had told me her mother died. So she had.lied to me?  
  
"I-I'm sorry," I replied quickly, dropping the receiver. I could hear the poor maid's voice calling out like a broken record. Not even bothering to tell Two-Bit where I was going, I just simply ran. I needed to find Sarah and make her explain to me what she had been lying about.  
  
SODA  
  
Thoughts raced through my head faster then the rate that Darry's truck was driving at, and that was pretty fast on its own. It just stunned me. Anya actually had lied to me. Maybe lied wasn't the best choice of words. No, it was. She had specifically told me that she had received a job at 7-11 and the money was coming from there. Maybe she did work at 7-11 and Kat was just mistaken. No, there was only one 7-11 in all of Tulsa. I kept going back and forth on myself the entire time.  
  
Steve hadn't said a word. I think he was just as shocked as I was. He loved Anya like she was his sister, and treated her as such. I think more then anything he wanted to shield Anya from the neighborhood we lived in, to hide her from the all the horrors that come out at night. To provide a shield against all the traits she shouldn't pick up, like lying or stealing or swearing. Now she was picking up with the rest of us.  
  
I couldn't stop trying to deny the fact that Anya lied to my face. I started thinking about her last words. I knew she loved me. I felt it every time I was around her. Then why? Why would she lie to me?  
  
We parked Darry's truck in front of his house. The lights weren't out, which was a bad sign because it was pretty late. That would probably mean that Steve's folks were fighting again. Let me rephrase that: that meant Steve's dad shoving his mom around. It wasn't that Steve's dad was a bad guy; when he was sober he was actually pretty tuff. He just was too stressed and ornery and drunk and took it out on others.  
  
Steve and I stepped out, and we hurried up the steps and opened the door. I saw Angus Randle fly through the doorway, a beer bottle in his hand, "Where the hell have ya bin?"  
  
"Out," Steve said, tightlipped. "Where's Anya?"  
  
"That's what I was gonna ask you," Mr. Randle slurred. He pointed to me, "You done anything to her?"  
  
"No!" I said. I would never think about harming Anya. I loved Anya. I just hoped I could after this.  
  
"Fuck, we're out of beer," commented Mr. Randle. He threw the beer bottle against the wall, where the faded yellow wallpaper was peeling. "Woman! Bring me my beer!"  
  
"Yes, honey," Julia Randle called meekly from the other room. Just then, Anya walked through the door. None of us had even noticed her; she had come in so quietly. Her head was bowed in shame and her dark blonde hair covered her face. Her knuckles had turned right from clutching her purse, and her trench coat was wrapped tightly around her body.  
  
"Where the hell have ya bin?!" snapped Mr. Randle. "We make rules, you follow them! If it weren't for me, you'd be in foster care!"  
  
"Don't take it out on her!" Steve yelled. "It ain't her fault your sister's a fucking prostitute and our dearest uncle was a thug!"  
  
"You stay out of this," Mr. Randle shouted. "You don't make the money!"  
  
Steve argued, "Yeah, I do!"  
  
"You shut the fuck up!" argued Mr. Randle. "Or I'll kick the both of you little delinquents out!"  
  
"Don't refer to her like that!" Steve yelled. "Anya's the best thing that ever happened to you, you drunk bastard!"  
  
"GET OUT!" screeched Mr. Randle. "All of you! I hate you, I wish the two of you hadn't ever been born!"  
  
Mrs. Randle entered the room, "Honey, please."  
  
"Leave me alone, woman!" Mr. Randle yelled, shoving his wife to the floor. Steve grabbed his jacket, then took Anya's hand and yelled, "Fine! I'll get the fuck out! And I'll never come back!" I think this time he was serious. You could never be sure. Every week Steve and his father would have heinous arguments like these. Anya was standing off in the corner, meek, hurt. The three of us hurried back into Darry's truck. Steve spent the next few minutes swearing and slamming his fists into the driver's wheel. Anya sat quietly in between us, twiddling her thumbs, biting her lip as if she had something to say but was afraid to say it.  
  
After Steve got his aggression out, he sighed and said, "Soda, can we stay at your place?"  
  
"Sure," I said, looking directly at Anya. I think she noticed I was staring. Figuring that Steve was too angry to safely drive, I took the wheel and drove us home. That was when I'd get my explanation. 


	10. Chapter Ten

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Woohoo! Chapter Ten! I haven't had too much time to write that much lately.stupid homework and being sick. Grrr. Anyway, thank you's need to be handed out like lollipops.would you like cherry, raspberry, grape, chocolate or orange? Hmmm? Sorry, I've had a long day. OK, wow, thanks for the reviews though! SodasGurl, so you think you know? Hehehe; thank you for reviewing! I loved your "Weirdness" story though (just needed to get some subliminal marketing in there)! Karlei Shaynner, glad you enjoy reviewing it, I enjoy writing it. See? Perfect relationship. Twobitsgreaserbabi, wow, thanks, I've been reading a little bit of some of your other stories ("Three's a Crowd", is that one of them?) and they're pretty interesting so far, just curious though, is your real name Rockelle? If it is, that's the coolest name. And if it isn't, that's still a cool name. And Bega, wow, thanks for the review and idea. I may use it later *hint hint*. And yes, I know you shouldn't leave a two year old kid with someone who's just been jumped, but Kat's supposed to show up later but since this is a POV story it's hard to.never mind. You get the picture. So, what's up with me lately (hehe, sorry, I've stated this before, it's been a long day)? Well, school sucks and anyone who's telling you differently is trying to sell you something. ;). I saw "Hardball" (with Diane Lane.Cherry!) and then I saw a bit of one of the Karate Kid movies and "Johnny" (Ralph Macchio I think?) was in it. Just finished "That was Then, This is Now" (very good book, didn't have TOO much of a problem with the ending) and will probably get around to "Rumblefish" after I've finished "Fight Club" (wow, I'm actually reading these days!). I want pretty gold stars on my papers. And a cookie. Yum. It's funny, lately I've trying to have philosophically metaphorical conversations with the fellow inmates-erm, "classmates" at my school. They either apply lip-gloss or grunt. Hmmm. Must study this for future reference.  
  
CHAPTER TEN  
  
SODA  
  
The drive home was long, longer then I had ever remembered the drive from Steve's to my house being. No one spoke, but a tempest of emotion was raging like angry ocean waves. No one wanted to be the first to speak.  
  
I parked the car and the three of us hopped out. I didn't embrace Anya or help her out, I simply followed her and Steve inside. Darry and Two-Bit were already there. I had no idea where Kat was, but I knew she couldn't have been gone for too long, because Cloud was there, babbling and playing with one of Ponyboy's books. Darry was sitting in the armchair while Two- Bit was trying to teach Cloud some sort of hand game. Anya sat down in a thrift store chair in the corner. Steve headed for the 'fridge for a beer.  
  
"Anya, baby," I said. I knelt down beside her and stroked her cheek. She turned away, and I saw her silently cry. I hate it when girls cry.  
  
"Baby, don't cry." Anya didn't answer, just sat there, picking at a nail, "it's just I need to know where you've been working. And I know it's not 7- 11 because Kat just got a job at 7-11. Please, please, Anya, don't lie to me." She didn't say anything. Wasn't she listening to a word I was saying?  
  
"Anya?" I noticed her body shook like a twig not strong enough to sustain nature's cruelty. Something was wrong. "Anya, please don't shut me out. What's wrong.I promise I won't be mad at you." Nothing. It was like talking to a wall. A kind, beautiful wall, but a wall nonetheless. This began to irritate me. I had practically poured my heart into Anya, and now she had nothing to say to me.  
  
"Anya, tell me--"  
  
"I GOT JUMPED, OKAY?!" The room settled for a moment or two. Tears were streaming down Anya's face. No one was quite sure what to do, to see if she was serious or just being overdramatic. Oh yes, she was being serious.  
  
"What?!" all of us asked her in unison. It was like we were thinking with the same brain. I didn't want to believe what she had said, I wanted her to take the words she'd said back as one big, unfunny joke.  
  
"Who?" I asked in disbelief.  
  
"That Soc," sniffed Anya, crossing her arms and looking away from me. "I don't know his name, the one that hates Pony so much."  
  
"Spike," muttered Darry. Something came over Steve's face. I wasn't quite sure what, but I saw the beer bottle he was carrying slip nimbly through his fingers and crash to the ground, shattering into thousands of shards.  
  
"Yes," cried Anya. "I was walking home, and he was following me and I couldn't use my switch blade and he tried.he tried forcing himself on me. I couldn't take it; I was almost going to use the switchblade on him. The only way he didn't rape me was because I scratched him and then slashed him with the blade.  
  
"I didn't know what to do!" sobbed Anya, as if to reaffirm to us that fact. "And then he just stumbled off. He was drunk, I can still smell the vodka." That was all she needed to say. I saw her look into my eyes and sob even more. I must have had some look, because if I looked how I felt I think I would've cried to. Someone had hurt my Anya, my sweet Anya. Someone had attacked her and abused her and left her crying. Someone was going to die.  
  
Something snapped in Steve, and he grabbed his coat and pointed a warning finger at Anya, "You stay here. If any of you touch her, I swear to God I'll kill the bunch of ya." And then he stormed out of the house. The rest of us sat there in silence, even baby Cloud. It was like we need a moment of silence to honor Anya. I wanted to envelope her in my arms, shower her with kisses and tell her everything was going to be wonderful. But it wasn't. And lying wasn't going to help it.  
  
"He's got a gun," murmured Anya. I looked up at her, to see if she was lying again. I don't think she'd ever lie again, "Steve. He's got a gun. He's gonna kill Spike."  
  
"Let him die," spat Two-Bit. That was rare to hear something so serious from Two-Bit. Two-Bit was the comic relief in the gang, the one we called in to lighten our lives up. Never had he said something so damning, so lethal without rethinking it or making it into some big pun. I think in a way Anya may have represented to Two-Bit his little sister, who was growing up far too fast and was already wearing make-up in the seventh grade. Serious Darry shook his head. At least could he be counted on to keep up his role, his persona that we'd all come to lean upon.  
  
"No, we gotta find Steve. If he kills Spike there'll be more trouble then he ever bargained for," Darry said. I don't think having Anya get jumped would exactly be something I bargained for.  
  
"No one will know," I argued. As the words escaped my mouth, flowing and hitting the faded wooden floor, I know they will be reflected back at me from Darry. He will tell me to be a good boy and let the authorities handle this. We've all seen how wonderful they've handled it before.  
  
Darry shook his head, "They will. And if they don't, they'll pin it on Steve anyway. We gotta stop him."  
  
"I'll stay with Anya," I said.  
  
Anya shook her head, "No, I'll be okay." How cute of her to pretend she could defend herself, when at any moment her yolk would crack and ooze out onto the floor. She would be putty on the floor, a sobbing mess with blonde hair and pretty legs, one who cared too much and now has been scarred for life.  
  
"No, someone needs to stay with you," I insisted.  
  
"I will," argued Darry. Leave it to Superman to be the super tuff, big brother archetype.  
  
"I'm okay, honest," Anya insisted. "Go! Staying here isn't going to save Steve, and that's all I care about right now." She had a point. Besides, Kat would be coming home soon. Kat would save the day with her milk and cookies and warm smile and calm listening and pat Anya on the shoulder. So the three of us, Darry, Two-Bit and Soda, burst out of the door and off to save Steve like the big, bad heroes we were.  
  
KAT  
  
I was walking to the drugstore to buy medicine for Cloud. She had a mild cold, but poor Cloud had a frail immunity system and I wanted her to be as healthy as soon as possible. I had asked the boss for payment in advance, and he reluctantly gave it to me. I counted the money, and it was just barely enough to pay for the medicine.  
  
I thought about the argument Darry and I had. He was right. I was right. We were both wrong. Did that make any sense? The truth was, I loved Darry. I was afraid to make it legal and shout it to the world. I was afraid of too much. I was afraid of flying.  
  
Quickly and silently, I felt a blade held inches from my neck. I heard a voice whisper into my ear, "Hey, angel, what's happening."  
  
"Leave me alone, Julio," I begged. "Please, just leave me alone..."  
  
"No can do," Julio whispered. I could feel his breath on my skin. "I just need a little loan of cash."  
  
"Are you sure the plan will work?" I saw out of the corner of my eye a scrawny blonde girl. I think she was Julio's latest girlfriend. I pitied her.  
  
"Positive, if Katerina here gives us the cash to skiddaddle outta here," Julio whispered. His voice was dark like velvet, the type of voice you expected vampires to have. Julio was a vampire, from the way his skin stretched across his face and they way he came out and stalked the night, consuming its denizens. He sucked the blood from the women victims. He was Jack the Ripper reincarnated.  
  
"This is for my daughter," I explained, like it would actually matter to him. "Please, Julio, just please let me buy medicine, she's sick."  
  
"Give me the cash!" shouted Julio. That's all he wanted was cash. Give him a dollar and pat him on the head and send him off and everything would be okay. I'd still have enough money for what really mattered; Cloud.  
  
"Julio, you didn't tell me we would have to force her to give us the money," the blonde girlfriend said. Julio cupped his free hand and slapped her straight across the face. That silenced her. I could almost feel the pain she was feeling as she laid curled up on the curb, clutching her cheek, sobbing softly. I could almost feel it because I knew what it was like to be slapped that hard, to plead and beg for your life and live on your knees. Julio didn't spread love; he spread hate, used his girlfriends like me and this blonde girl like receptacles for his violence. It was truly disgusting.  
  
"Fuck, I don't have time for this," muttered Julio. He smacked me across the back of the head and snatched my purse. I fell to the cement, my bruised arms breaking my fall. I screamed and cried as I watched Julio grab his sobbing girlfriend by her ethereal thin arms and toss her in the seat of his car. He was taking the money I needed for my baby girl and using it for who the hell knew what! Regaining my senses, I jumped to my feet and ran to the car, kicking at the tires and yelling at Julio. He couldn't care less that his daughter was sick, just drove off and left me crying behind in a dust cloud. Like he always would.  
  
PONY  
  
My worn out sneakers hit the cement as I ran. I couldn't take it anymore. What had happened to my beautiful, perfect Sarah? The one I would spend the rest of my life just listening to her pearls of wisdom that she wore around her pretty little neck. She always had an answer. SHE ALWAYS HAD AN ANSWER!  
  
I was in the West Side, the rich side, which being a greaser meant I was practically begging for a mugging. Nothing made sense, and everything around me felt blurry. Sarah. Mother. Ditched. Alone.  
  
My senses were scattered. I panted as I pulled up to their perfect little house. Oddly enough, it didn't seem nearly as happy and perfect as the first few times I'd seen it. Gray curtains hung from the window, and the yard seemed darker. Nothing seemed as happy and cheerful as it had been.  
  
I rang the doorbell and waited patiently until a large, petite Hungarian maid answered the door. Of all the strange looks I've gotten, this one was the funniest. She wasn't sure whether I was going to mug her or be a gentleman. I'm not sure which one she exactly wanted, but I said as politely as I could muster, "May I speak to Sarah?"  
  
The maid looked me over, and then nodded, "Very well." She let me in and then called up the stairs. I must've looked pretty strange, a greaser standing on Italian carved marble in blue jeans and a white T-shirt.  
  
"Ponyboy?" I looked up to see Sarah standing at the top of the staircase. Fazing back, it was like we were at some grand ball in the Renaissance, where she'd curtsy and I'd bow and I'd sweep her up in my arms and lead her around the dance floor while all the other girls stood there, jealously glaring at her. And then her father, we'll pretend he's a squire, would then knight me or something and we'd live happily ever after.  
  
Instead of a suit, I was wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt and she was wearing a nightgown. She tied her bathrobe tightly and then hurried down the staircase and threw her arms around me. I stiffened my body, and I saw her break the embrace and gaze sadly into my eyes, "What's wrong?"  
  
"Sarah," I asked, "was your mother's name Caroline?"  
  
"Yes," she murmured. "Why?"  
  
"Did she die from cancer?"  
  
"Yes." she stated firmly. Her mouth gaped when she saw my expression. "Oh my God.you.you know? When.?"  
  
"Twenty two minutes ago," I replied. "So what else have you lied to me about?"  
  
"What, what do you mean? I don't understand." Her eyes searched mine, hoping to find something of the Ponyboy Curtis who had rescued her from being raped so long ago.  
  
"Bullshit, Sarah," I told her. "You said your mother died of cancer, that's why you were in the cemetery."  
  
"Oh, and if I told you why I was really there would you care?" Sarah snapped.  
  
I yelled back, "Why? You'd probably be lying then! Sarah, I trusted you with some of my deepest thoughts! I told you about Dally, Johnny, I don't tell just about everyone that!"  
  
"Pony, let me explain." Sarah began. "If you listened."  
  
"I don't want to," I told her stiffly. I had had enough. Everyone lying, being hypocrites, all of it. Disgusted, I turned my back on her and began to leave her fucking, perfect little house. I heard her cry and shout and beg for me to listen to her. I couldn't. What had I been listening to earlier? Was that really Sarah, or was she just lying? I threw open the door and stormed out. It began to drizzle. Isn't it always perfect timing that whenever something bad happens, it has to drizzle so you have to storm back home listening to the damning squishes of raindrops in your sneakers?  
  
"Pony, please!" Something made me turn back to look at her. Sarah was standing in nothing but her nightgown, not even caring that she was getting pounded by raindrops. Her hair was matted behind her, and I couldn't tell the raindrops from the teardrops.  
  
"To think I ever loved you," I muttered loud enough for her to here. For the last time, I turned my back on her and ran. 


	11. Chapter Eleven

AUTHOR'S NOTE OK, chapter eleven. Good thing about this is I really like how Soda's part is written. It may be out of character, but I think you guys should know that I write him this way because he's changed now that Anya was jumped.  
  
OK, thank you guys for reading. This has been a lot of reviews for a story with only ten chapters, and that's really good too (good for me)! I want to thank SodasGurl, thank you for clarifying; yes I got your e-mail and thank you for the information and clarifying that. Karlei, thanks for the flattering review, it means a lot to me these days to get reviews. And Bega, I really want to thank you for being specific about what you like and being helpful with ideas. These reviews actually do mean a lot to me, so.well, keep them coming!  
  
Here's chapter eleven.  
  
CHAPTER ELEVEN  
  
SODA  
  
I've been scared. But never as scared as I had been then. Not even when Steve and I were throwing the football around and it broke a window and we ran off and were afraid to tell anyone. But that was just a football. Steve, the living time bomb, was now wandering around the streets, vengeance on his mind, with a gun. A real life heater. Dally used to carry them all the time, made a good bluff he said. Now Dally's six feet underground.  
  
Everything seems louder and more distinct now that the three of us were so frantic. Two-Bit was silent, which was a real shocker for Darry and me. Darry himself was asking everyone he could find if they saw a greaser with dark hair combed in complicated swirls. Mostly those we asked spat on us or told us to go play cops and robbers somewhere else.  
  
I squinted and saw someone. A hourglass figure standing by a telephone booth, chatting it up with two other kids our age, Bryon and Mark. The girl they were talking to was a classy Soc, cute looking brunette actually. I recognized her. She was the Soc at the party and the DX, the friend of the Soc Pony liked. She was blowing bubblegum and giggling at a joke Bryon was telling. Bryon was always a lady killer. He picked women up and then plummeted them straight back to the ground. This girl was no different. In a way I wanted to warn her about the heartbreak she'd be feeling, but I had more important thoughts at the moment.  
  
"I recognize that Soc, she might know where Spike is," I told Darry. Darry nodded, and the three of us walked over to her. She didn't seem to mind our presence, which was rather odd. Then again, she was hitting on two other greasers like ourselves.  
  
"You," I said, sounding rather stupid. "Gloria, right?"  
  
"That's right," Gloria replied, smiling coyly. "You're the greaser at the DX, right?"  
  
"Yeah," I answered. "We need to ask you a question."  
  
"Aw, leave her alone," Bryon replied. "She's with us."  
  
"It's okay," Gloria told him. So far she didn't seem "in love" with Bryon, but it was really a matter of time. "What's up?"  
  
"Have you seen Spike lately?" Darry asked.  
  
Gloria thought back. She sipped on the Coke Bryon had ordered for her as a token of his affection and then nodded, "Yeah, a greaser stopped by asking me not too long ago."  
  
"Wait, what did he look like?" I asked.  
  
Gloria shrugged, "So tall, dark hair, seemed really mad about something." She treated it all like it was common business, as if every person walked up to her asking for Spike's location. She was Spike's travel agent.  
  
"Where'd he go?" I asked urgently. So Steve beat me to it. Now Steve would approach Spike and challenge him to a Southern duel, with swords and gloves and honor. Right? I didn't have time to play twenty questions with Gloria.  
  
"Where'd Spike go?"  
  
"I saw him stumble around by that Kitty Katz cabaret," Gloria said, "by the East Side. Then he came up to me and asked me for some cash. Bryon here bravely defended me." She giggled and wrapped an arm around a bored Bryon. I never liked him much. Always too conceited for my tastes. Now Gloria was his latest conquest, his latest game to win. Then he would place her neat little trophy on his shelf and move on to bigger fish. And Gloria would be bitter for the rest of her life wondering if Bryon was truly the one, pining for him until she died an old woman.  
  
"Where else?" asked Darry.  
  
"After that, by the warehouse, nearby the projects. By the black side of town," Gloria replied diligently. Like the good Socy girl she was. Where she would marry a "respectable" Soc, stay at home and breed more Socs. She would not marry Bryon, the love of her life. She would marry the runner up. Was that what Gloria wanted? Did Gloria care enough to notice?  
  
"Thank you," I nodded, trying to sound sincere. I am. We can now save the day. Why? Because it was the right thing to do, according to Darry, and Darry always did the right thing. Maybe doing the right thing was allowing Spike to die. Maybe if Spike died we could right the wrong he did to Anya. My beautiful, little Anya. Who now would have to deal with the fact that she had been sexually abused for the rest of her beautiful, little life.  
  
Who would truly miss Spike? His parents? The ones who bought his false affection? Maybe they would be glad he was gone, to cure the overpopulation problem, or not to deal with another little hooligan to pay for college, where he would get too drunk with the sorority sisters and be banished from the ranks of college. The cops? Would they miss another juvenile delinquent? They would miss him the same way they missed Dally. Except Spike would get a fancy little parade and a nicer little tombstone, and a neat little obituary in the paper. Maybe people would write in about what an inspiration he was. Chris would tell the paper how Spike was his best friend and they would tell all their secrets and fears and ambitions to one another. Adrienne would explain how much she truly loved Spike, and how she was just kidding when she dumped him. Sarah would say that deep down Spike could've been something. Wouldn't it just be beautiful?  
  
And let's look at what would happen if we stopped Steve. Spike would go free, where he could attack and possibly rape other innocent little girls. Like Two-Bit's sister. Or a grownup Cloud. And then one of us, maybe this time it would be Two-Bit or Darry, would take a gun and threaten to kill Spike, and then we would remind them of how forgiveness saves all, and they would stop obediently. And the process would repeat all over again. Like watching "Howdy Doody" or something. Repetition is the process of learning.  
  
We walked across the barren street to the projects. Maybe if Steve didn't get to Spike, the black guys would. They'd beat him until he bled saliva, and then he would beg for Steve to take the gun to him. It would be beautiful like the obituary.  
  
"I hear talking," Darry murmured. "Steve and Spike are definitely in there." Like the three Musketeers from that one book Pony was reading (or was he?), we kicked down the door to the warehouse and strode in bravely. That's what I love about people. They assume because I smile and act happy that I never think about stuff like this. And they're right. I didn't. But I could see Anya lying on the street, scratches and claw marks from the venomous monster Spike, not even crying because she was too afraid to make any sound.  
  
I saw Steve and I saw Spike. Steve was standing upright, gun firmly in his left hand, pointing directly at Spike. Spike was leaning against a bale of hay, laughing silently to the point that the cigarette dangling from his mouth could easily slip and light the entire warehouse on fire, burning us all to a crisp. Just like Johnny and Dally. Pony used to describe their deaths like Southern gentlemen going off to war. Maybe we'd all go out as gallant as they did.  
  
"Looky what we've got now, greaser," Spike smirked. "Huh? Look, it's your pallies. Are they all here to beat me up, or are you just gonna skip the small talk and cut straight to the chase?"  
  
"You shut up!" Steve shouted.  
  
"Steve," Darry said, "Steve, c'mon, put the gun down."  
  
"Why?" asked Steve. "He did that.to Anya." I was fully expecting Spike to mouth off, but he apparently didn't have any witty remark to toss back at Steve, to mock his anger and pain. Like a wet towel slapping him in his face, his moment of defeat.  
  
"Yes, but just come home," begged Darry. "We can sort this out. Spike's going to jail." Why wasn't I saying anything? I was Steve's best friend. I should be the one with the all the right answers, and Steve should obey them because he was the best friend.  
  
"Ooh, bad boy Spike," snickered Spike, blowing a smoke ring. He didn't seem to be having any problem with the fact that a bullet could be lodged between his eyes at any second. In a way Spike was sort of like Dally, if Dally had been complete evil. Spike's cockiness would be his undoing. If Steve didn't pull the trigger, I would. I would watch as Spike clutched his chest and make choking sounds and twist his knees and fall to the ground like some sort of wrecked project. He would wallow in his own dishonest, dirty blood as if it was water. He would bathe himself in it because that's what he deserved. I didn't care if he was to be locked away in a little jail with no food or water and forced to work until his muscles turned to dust. That wasn't good enough. Not for me.  
  
"Come on, Steve," urged Darry. There wasn't too much we could do other then talk. Steve had the gun in his hand, and he would kill Spike if he felt so. Maybe he'd toy with Spike like a bored cat tossing a mouse he was bound to eat anyway.  
  
Darry looked to me, and said, "Tell him something, Soda. You're his best buddy." That's right, Darry, I'll do it for the team. I'll hit a homerun and Coach Darry will slap me on the back and buy us all pizza and lumpy root beer floats but we'd all be too grateful to say anything. That'd be it.  
  
"Steve, drop the gun," I ordered. Steve didn't budge. "I know what Spike did was wrong, if anyone should know, it's me. But please, Steve. We can get through this, you, me, Anya, the whole gang. We'll survive, Stevie, honest." Ha! I was lying through my teeth. Like that great speech actually meant anything. If I had told Steve to shoot the bastard Spike would be nothing more then crisp, burnt flesh in seconds. I saw the way Steve's muscles were locked. Slowly, he began to lower the gun.  
  
"Steve!" Another surprise, like ripping open all your Christmas presents only to find a smaller, but equally great present hidden underneath the tree. We saw Anya dash in through the opposite door. She had changed her clothes, shedding herself of what had happened. Her eyes glazed past Spike to see Steve with the gun.  
  
"Oh my God," she whispered. As if she didn't know he was ready to shoot him. "Steve, don't do it."  
  
"Soda here just convinced me of that," Steve murmured. "Time to here your excuse, Anya. You're the one wronged here, should I kill the bastard or let him rot in jail?" He said the last part mockingly. I think at that moment Anya ached to tell Steve to kill him, to murder her offender. She was thinking the same thing I was. Anya's eyes gazed to Darry, looking to him for support, and then me. I didn't know what to do other then nod. I'm not sure what signal that sent.  
  
"Let him rot in jail," she said. "Gunshot would be too painless. I want him to feel the pain I felt."  
  
"That's right, let the little whore tell you what to do with me," Spike laughed, tipping an imaginary hat. "Thank you for your pity, stripper."  
  
"Shut up!" shouted Anya and Steve unanimously. Spike had struck a blood vein and was now watching its contents ooze out.  
  
He shook his head, "Why don't you tell your lover boy here where you've been getting your money."  
  
"Leave them out of this, bastard," Steve muttered, raising the gun again.  
  
"No, don't!" shouted Anya.  
  
"Tell them, woman of sin. Tell them that you've been working at a club, putting on nicely performed little shows," Spike replied.  
  
"What?" I asked. It was my turn to be shocked. "Fuck you, Spike."  
  
"Been there, done that," replied Spike calmly. "No, save that for your girlfriend, if you still want her after what she's done."  
  
"Go to hell, Spike," muttered Anya bitterly. I remember never wanting Anya to harden herself and be bitter like the rest of us. Look where she is now.  
  
"Gladly, dear, but I think you should tell the boy where you've been working lately," sighed Spike, toying with us. Now he was the cat.  
  
"Tell him that he's lying," I said. "You? A stripper? Ha! Tell him." She didn't move, and looked off to the side, afraid to meet my eyes.  
  
"Tell him!" I said indignantly, stomping my foot, repeating the sentence as if to take back what Spike said.  
  
Anya shook her head; "We needed the money, Sodapop. I wanted to get married before anything happened to one of us. It wasn't full nudity, I had most of my clothes on, and it was only a few days job."  
  
"How else do you think I'd have been able to track down such a lovely like her?" asked Spike. "Damn, East Side's cranking them out nicer then they used to." I wasn't even listening to him. Darry and Two-Bit were in shock. I don't think they knew how to handle it. I didn't know how to handle it. My girlfriend the stripper. Nice ring to it, huh?  
  
"Get away from me," I said to Anya, disgusted.  
  
"Soda, please!"  
  
"Don't call me Soda again," I told her. "You showed something only I was meant to see to the entire underground world, and now you expect me to take you back? I'm sorry, Anya, it's over." I left Anya crying as I stormed out of the warehouse.  
  
PONY  
  
It was getting late out, dusk to be particular. The time where day and night kiss briefly before returning to their respective lairs. I walked on, thinking, my mind lost. Sarah. Get out of my head. I've banished you from my mind, out out! Please? If I ask nicely, would you leave?  
  
I shook my head and kept trotting further and further away from the van Pelt mansion all together. The further away I strode the closer it felt to me. She just wouldn't go away, not even pretty please with sugar on top. I sighed. I've now resorted to carrying out conversations on my own.  
  
Intense wailing filled my ears. I turned my heard to see Gloria, Sarah's best friend, sitting on a red Sting Ray in a vacant parking lot outside an old café, bawling her heart out. On either side of her were Cherry and Marcia, acting like supporting handmaidens. Did all Soc girls know one another?  
  
"And then he dumped me!" sobbed Gloria, frustratingly tearing apart her tissue. Was she referring to Chris, her bum of a boyfriend, or a new flavor of the month? Some new Soc she was being paired up with because Daddy Dearest needed to be boosted up the social chain? That was her problem, not mine.  
  
"That pig!" agreed Marcia, patting Gloria on the arm. "Don't cry, Gloria, there's others out there, besides Bryon."  
  
Gloria shook her head, "No, I really think he was the one." So Gloria was crying her heart out because Bryon dumped her. Bryon was a lady killer; didn't she know that? And did Gloria truly expect to hold out a permanent relationship with a take-em-and-dump-em greaser? Apparently not.  
  
"Hey Ponyboy," murmured Cherry. I smiled. Cherry was a familiar face. A nice familiar face. I liked familiar faces. Not familiar like Spike or Chris or Adrienne but familiar like Cherry. Her red hair was even longer then before and was blowing in the breeze. Gloria sort of glowered over at me and then went blew her nose on a handkerchief.  
  
"So wait, what happened again?" asked Cherry.  
  
Gloria sniffed, "Well, it was right after these bunch of greasers, Soda and all, came by looking for one of their own. They were going after Spike and all, I think it had to do with that girl they run around with, Soda's girl or something."  
  
"Wait, what?" I asked.  
  
"Oh, that's right, your brother came by looking for his friend, Steve right?" asked Gloria, looking to Cherry and Marcia for confirmation. They nodded. Gloria continued, "Steve came by, real pissed, kept muttering about Anya and Spike, Spike must've done something to piss them off."  
  
"Spike's after me," I murmured. It slowly came back in pieces, like a jigsaw puzzle that's been tampered with. Spike wanting revenge, after he got his Socy life ripped right out from under him. Knowing him, he'd blame it on me. I had no idea what Steve or Anya had to with it. Then again, maybe I didn't want to know.  
  
"Do you know where they went?" I asked.  
  
Gloria the Informant shrugged, "Warehouse, I think."  
  
"Can't get there in enough time," I muttered. I looked directly at Cherry Valance and asked, "Can you give me a ride?"  
  
Cherry nodded, "Sure." As she leaned over to get to the driver's seat I could see a class ring on a silver chain on her dainty neck. Someone had found Cherry and taken her away. Maybe she was happy. I hoped she was. That would at least be one of us.  
  
Cherry and I sat in the front seat while Marcia comforted Gloria in the back. She sped off towards the warehouse. I pushed Sarah to the back of my mind; I had more important problems to handle. Knowing Steve, he probably wasn't too happy with Spike. Knowing Steve, he was probably wild and dangerous. And then the final pieces fit in perfectly and snugly. Spike must've wronged Anya and now Steve was out to get revenge. Oh God.  
  
Hell hath no fury like Steve scorned.  
  
Cherry parked the Sting Ray in the back of the warehouse. I think she understood that she had no place in this, and offered to stay outside. I explained to her that I didn't want her or Marcia or Gloria to be hurt. Gloria said she wanted to stay outside anyway, before dissolving in tears about how she felt selfish. I would've comforted her but I didn't have the time.  
  
I burst into the warehouse, like the superheroes or Zorro would do. I saw Anya kneeling on the floor, crying far more then Gloria was. It wasn't the loud, somewhat annoying sobbing. It as the soft moaning of a bride left at the altar, still haunting the church. Anya was Miss Havisham. Miss Havisham without the bride dress. And now she was on fire. Soda was nowhere to be found. Two-Bit was comforting Anya, while Steve was screaming wildly. Darry was clutching Kat in his arms, who was trying to explain that she got jumped and found Anya and then Anya ran out, and Cloud was hiding in the corner. Spike was watching all of this with relish.  
  
"So whatcha gonna do Stevie?" asked Spike. "Huh? Your cousin's a two-piece broad, and now your best friend ditched ya. Make the choice pretty quickly, time's running out."  
  
"Shut up!" shouted Steve. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Steve was broken. A broken record. Steve was broken. Steve was broken. Steve was broken. I was broken.  
  
"Get out of here," muttered Darry to Spike. "You've got your opportunity, now scram." Spike sighed, as if his little game was over. I hated Spike. This was my fault. All of the mayhem before me, all the tears spilled unto the ground, I caused that. Look at me, I'm Ponyboy Curtis, and I professionally fuck up others' lives. Want my business card?  
  
And Spike began to leave the building. Go! Run away! Hurt others viciously as you wonder the streets, you murderous bastard. We let you go, because we're the good guys who have to obey the law. How ironic of us greasers actually obeying the law. Who cares that you probably sexually assaulted Anya, the most innocent member of our gang who could not stand up for herself against a brute like you. Who cares that now your free to hurt others' the same way you hurt Anya, and in turn the rest of us.  
  
It was then I understood what Anya (or Miss Havisham) meant to our group. She was our comfort food. I think we felt comfort at someone as innocent and sweet as Anya, one who wasn't trashy and didn't swear and wore skirts at a decent level. Anya was not the typical greaser girl mold, and that's what we liked about her. We didn't ever want for Anya to become a greaser chick. It was comfortable for her to smile and act painfully nice. We all loved Anya. Anya was the catcher in the rye. In a way, Anya saved us all; she entered our lives permanently as Dally and Johnny exited. Good ol' Anya. How we love her.  
  
I watched what Spike had done to all of us. He'd made Two-Bit serious. He'd made Anya cry. He'd ripped Darry straight out of the rabbit hole and made him be an adult. I shook my head and muttered. This all because I had talked to Sarah. Right now I wished I had never met Sarah. Look what the two of us had done together. We were just a pair of tornados, destroying all in our path. I wondered about that one song, "Suicide is Painless". Maybe it was. Maybe I could make this all go away by simply going away.  
  
What happened next was a dream. Pinch me. None of this is happening. I didn't see Spike saunter over to Anya, who was glaring at him with pleading eyes. He then spat his cigarette out and smirked, "Pretty nice show you put on tonight, girly."  
  
Steve snapped.  
  
I still don't know what happened. Soda and Darry tried explaining afterwards. Maybe it was because Steve and Evie had broken up, and that Steve really cared about Evie and this was how he was showing it. Maybe it was because his father had exploded at him. Maybe it was because the one thing he truly cared about, lovely Anya, was now ruined. I have no idea. I don't think any of us know.  
  
Five gunshots. Just five. I watched as blood erupted from mini volcanoes on Spike's body as he collapsed to the ground. I don't like this movie. I want my money back. I'm just going to walk out and not even see how it ends. Too late. Anya shrieked. Darry yelled. Spike lay limp. Steve lowered the gun and stared at Spike, goading him to bleed more.  
  
All this yelling and shouting, like in the movies when something this traumatic or shocking had happened. Cloud was crying, Anya was crying, Kat was trying to hush Cloud but she was also crying too. Tears of the innocent mingling with the blood of the sinner. Two-Bit took Anya and led her outside, where I could hear Cherry and Marcia and Gloria all talking. Darry was tugging at Steve's arm, begging him to run before the cops came by. Some idiot must have called the cops, because sure enough sirens were everywhere. Just like in the movies. It was then that I looked down at my shirt and realized blood was splattered across it. Ha ha Spike. This is what you get. The villain got its sweet due. Maybe if we're lucky enough he'll die before anyone comes. Wouldn't that be nice?  
  
"Steve, let's go!" shouted Darry. Kat had already hurried away, taken Cloud back to the house. Good for Kat. They'd seen too much blood already. All of us had seen too much blood. But this blood river that flowed from Spike, that was the right kind of blood. That was the blood of the sinner. Hopefully, Spike was already dead, and we could all make a run for it and hide out at our house, just like the good, old days.  
  
"Get outta here, Pony," Darry yelled. He was struggling to drag Steve away. Darry's a pretty tough guy, he used to play football and he roofs houses for a living. But something in Steve did not want to leave. Maybe he hadn't fully grasped the fact that he could plausibly have killed Spike, or maybe he actually liked the thought. There wasn't too much we could do to save Steve.  
  
I could hear the sirens blaring, just like they would on Two-Bit's Mickey Mouse program. I walked outside, stumbling. Fuzz surrounded the place in their neat little blue uniforms, yelling and reiterating like trained monkeys all that they were taught in cop school. No one had left. Miss Havisham (formerly known as Anya Randle) was sitting on the stairs, Two- Bit's members only jacket wrapped on her shoulders, her shoulders shaking violently. She was still crying uncontrollably. Kat was clutching Cloud close to her, singing a soft lullaby in Spanish. Cherry, Marcia and Gloria were now all playing the supporting handmaiden role, patting Anya on the back softly and whispering words of encouragement in her ear. Two-Bit was smoking a cigarette, just staring at the warehouse and out at the fuzz in total shock. He glanced over at me with a deer in headlight expression. I could read the tea leaves in the cup. No one was going to be okay anymore.  
  
The fuzz stormed the warehouse, yelling into their nifty walkie talkies. They didn't need to scream; this wasn't a fucking episode of some television show. But it was. This was just the season finale; we'd be back in September with all the answers again. Several cops approached us, and grabbed Anya but not the other girls and put Anya in handcuffs. All because she was grease. The cops took Two-Bit and I too and read us our rights. I wasn't listening. The cops snatched Cloud from Kat's arms and then handcuffed her as well. Kat was screaming for her daughter, and vice versa. She needed medicine, she cried. Medicine to make her feel better. They couldn't care less.  
  
Cherry was yelling at them, the blue coats. She was arguing about the handcuffs. The cops threatened to put her and her little friends in hand cuffs too. She yelled "Fine!" and they were little JDs too. They tossed Anya and Kat gruffly in one car, and then gently placed Cherry, Marcia and Gloria in the other. I caught a glimpse of the three Socy girls; I think they felt responsible for what happened. I shook my head. They didn't need to.  
  
The cops threw us in a cop car, too. Two-Bit and I tried struggling, but it wasn't in us. Kat was still shrieking, her arms open, crying for Cloud. Cloud was fussing as well, her arms shaking. She couldn't form any words. Neither could the rest of us. The cops didn't care though.  
  
Looking out the stained window I saw Darry and Steve. Darry was trying calmly to explain to the cops what had happened, but the cop just kept shaking his head and sent him away to the dungeons. Being the good guy, Darry nodded and let them hand cuff him. I don't think that was his proudest moment.  
  
I watched as the first aid carried Spike out on stretchers. I saw his arms moving weakly, and his eyes were wide open. He wasn't dead. Damn. Too bad. Steve missed. Maybe if we were really lucky, Spike would die on the way to the hospital. Wouldn't that be something?  
  
The cop car began to pull away, with Two-Bit, Darry and I in the backseat in handcuffs. I gazed out the window, and saw the cops yelling and shouting with their guns firmly in hand. As if Steve would shoot them as well. That was really funny.  
  
Steve did not struggle when the police came to take him away. 


	12. Chapter Twelve

Hey Guys! I'm baaaaack. Now to explain my recent absence; frankly, I had so many ideas and none of them worked the way I liked them. So in a way, it was writer's block. I'm not really too happy with this chapter, but hey, that's the way it goes.  
  
OK, time to thank the reviewers. Seriously, these reviews and e-mails were really encouraging to me, especially because I was afraid people had lost interest in my story. Hope you guys haven't. Thank you, Starstruck, for the wonderful review. SodasGurl, wow, thanks also! CuteCarly, I got the e- mail you sent me, thanks and I just wanted to say that your story was really great! Hope, I hope you're happy, I continued! Bega, thanks for both the e-mail and review, I hope this lives up to yours and my standards. Karlei Shaynner, thank you as well. And for Grrr (Baah), thanks as well and wow, my story's a hot topic? Cool! Sorry, but I'd love to get that review about how great my story is! Hehe.I'm done.  
  
Anyway, I've been toying with the idea of writing a "That was Then, This is Now" fanfic as well as some other stories, so keep your eyes open for some of those. Don't know what that'll turn into. Here's Chapter Twelve, hope it doesn't suck too much.  
  
CHAPTER TWELVE  
  
SANDY  
  
Wake me up. This is some sort of horrible nightmare I'm living in. I want so badly to turn back, to walk away from all of this. I just keep repeating this to myself, hoping that maybe, just maybe, if I say it enough it'll come true.  
  
Julio is picking up speed in his car while I'm staring out at the stars, hoping for a shooting star. I'm hoping for a tunnel so I can make a wish and hold my breath. I should've listened to my grandparents, I should've stayed with them. None of this would've happened if I had listened to them. But no, I had to be the rebellious teenage prep and run out on them. With a total of twelve dollars in my purse. All of it being used by Julio for God-knows-what.  
  
"This is it," hissed Julio, glancing over at me. "This is the big times, Sandy. I'm gonna getcha whatever you want. You wanted revenge on that Curtis kid, and boy did I get revenge for ya."  
  
"How?" I asked. "By beating up that girl back there? All she needed was money for her kid--"  
  
"Hey, you keep your trap shut about that, bitch," barked Julio. That was an order, and if Julio wanted me to shut up, then I would shut up. I knew Julio had drunk a couple of tequilas before he'd said we needed to pack up and leave. The scary thing was, Julio could think as malevolently whether he was drunk or not. He was the Venus woman trapper, and laid his traps cleverly and perfectly, so nearly any girl could be ensnared. And here I was, his latest meal. Who might just possibly be a little pregnant.  
  
"Julio, slow down!" I cursed. The car was moving way too fast, so I gripped the wheel. He shoved me away.  
  
"Oh my God, look!" I shouted. It was too late though. I can still remember it, I think maybe because it's been etched into my brain. I saw a girl standing in the street, a little younger then me. She had white blonde hair, natural of course, with piercing olive green eyes. She didn't look trashy or whorish, but rather refined and truly beautiful. Her hair was pinned up, and she was wearing a long coat.  
  
Julio wasn't paying attention, though. He just merely kept driving, tapping his clipped, dirty fingernails on the steering wheel. It was too late though. The car hit her full on. Julio would've kept on driving if I hadn't stopped the car. Oh my God, what the hell just happened?  
  
"Why the hell did you do that?" asked Julio, as if I was the one who'd run over the girl. "We got to make it to Oklahoma City before tomorrow morning, woman."  
  
"If you didn't just notice," I replied back, "we just hit a young girl."  
  
Julio shrugged indifferently, "So?"  
  
"So?!" I asked. I threw up my arms in defeat and jumped out of the car. Julio sighed, as if I was asking him to cut off all his greasy, black hair and then burn it upon a funeral pyre for me.  
  
I couldn't believe what I saw, "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God." The Socy girl wasn't moving. I looked around. This definitely was a Socy neighborhood. I always fantasized about living in one. All the houses were a perfect, Victorian white and they all had perfect lawns with beautiful topiaries. Yet as I peered into the windows, they all seemed empty, crowded with material things yet it was so hollow and empty, like nobody lived there. Enlarged dollhouses is what they really were.  
  
"What are we gonna do?" I asked Julio. He shrugged and opened the door, "Pull her over to the sidewalk then drive off. C'mon, Oklahoma City!"  
  
"What the hell?" I shouted. "We just hit, possibly killing, a Socy girl and now you're telling me to pull her over to the friggin' sidewalk?! Julio, we could've killed her!"  
  
"So?" he asked. He didn't understand why I was making a big deal about this. I've never killed anything but bugs and certain rodents and reptiles; to me this was pretty big.  
  
"Fine," I sighed. He helped me carry her over to somebody's lawn and we laid her down. She was unconscious, but I think I saw her breathing. That was a good sign. Her fingers went limp and a small, leather book fell out of her hands. It had pages of handwriting stuffed in it and nearly falling out of the little gold lock. I picked up the book and placed it back in her grip. It was the least I could do.  
  
"C'mon, baby, we gotta get outta here!" Julio shouted.  
  
I sighed and hopped into the car, "Julio, do you love me?"  
  
"'Course, baby, now c'mon," he said. I sighed. That's what would make me stay. That's what would always make me stay.  
  
PONY  
  
They lied; being handcuffed and then locked up in smelly jail cells isn't as bad as they say. Sitting on a bench counting ceiling tiles is real peachy. They locked Two-Bit and Darry on either side of me, and Anya and Kat are across from me. They gave Cherry, Marcia and Gloria comfortable benches to sit on until someone picked them up. No one had seen Steve or Spike. I don't think anyone wanted to.  
  
Dead skin from my thumb fell to the ground as I picked at it to amuse myself. I was detached from everyone now. I felt like I was trapped in a mental asylum, and simply expected doctors and nurses to come by and give me a straight jacket and move me to a comfy padded cell. No such luck.  
  
Unfortunately, I kept thinking about Sarah. I kept imagining her still outside her house, sitting in the pouring rain in nothing but her nightgown. I actually missed her. Chuckling to myself, I couldn't believe I missed her. Leaning back against the cold cement wall with graffiti sketched into it like Aboriginal cave drawings, I began to ponder what drew me to Sarah. What else could I do, it wasn't like anyone was coming to pick us up?  
  
I imagined Sarah van Pelt, walking down the street with her white blonde hair and peeled olives for eyes. Her head high because she could take the abuse shouted from offenders. Then I imagined Sarah in the back of Spike's car, being raped. I shook my head. No. Did I care anymore?  
  
And would Anya ever shut up? She just kept sobbing, soft moaning really. Kat said nothing, neither did Darry; they were the adults, so what were they supposed to say? That we did the right thing? Did we? I thought so. This was all a figment of my imagination. I was schizophrenic. That's it. Spike and Steve and Sarah and Anya and all of them were just personalities I'd created. To keep myself from being lonely. I'd wake up on the comfy counselor's couch at our school, and she'd smile and shake my hand and said we were making real progress. Gotta love those counselors.  
  
Bored, I looked up to see Cherry standing up and talking to two well groomed males. They were definite Socs, clean cut with a farmer's tan. With the way the taller and leaner one had his hand on her back, I suspected they were going out.  
  
"Let's go home, Sherri," he said.  
  
Cherry looked to me and said "One moment, Zachariah." I saw her stride towards me and she knelt down beside me and stroked my cheek lovingly.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ponyboy," she murmured. "About Steve and everything.Spike was always a jackass."  
  
"It's okay," I replied. Those aren't my words. It's not going to be okay. This was an out of body experience. I wasn't talking to Cherry Valance down at the county jail. I'm colorblind to all of this.  
  
"I just wanted to know you'll be okay," Cherry replied. She sighed, "First Dally and Johnny and Bob, now this. Life's just not what I'd planned it to be." Of course not. You open your fuzzy pink planner and take out your expensive pen and dot your I's with hearts. You're dating a city Soc with money to support you through the rest of your comfy lives. You didn't have to take a part time job as a stripper to support your marriage. I bet Zachariah would still love you then, right?  
  
Cherry stood up, smoothed out her skirt, and then called to Marcia and Gloria, "Do you girls need a ride?"  
  
Gloria nodded, "Yeah, I'd rather not have my father find out about this." Marcia nodded. Cherry then began to walk back to her boyfriend. They were all clear to go. Because they were Socs. We weren't; we were white trash. We were the garbage of the Earth. We were what many would spend their lives cleaning up. We were the fucking hole in the ozone layer. We killed dolphins because someone threw their excess beer packaging into the water.  
  
"Hey Cherry," I called. My voice echoes.  
  
She turned real slow. "Yeah?"  
  
"Remember that night at the Nightly Double?"  
  
"Yeah," she replied. Her boyfriend grew defensive, his square jaw clenching. Relax, I ain't hitting on her.  
  
"Just curious," I murmured, sliding in my bench. Cherry turned to walk off again, but I just won't leave her alone, "Cherry!"  
  
"What?" she asked again.  
  
"Do you believe in fate?"  
  
Cherry paused for a moment, not quite sure of what this had to do, then nodded slowly, "Yeah. Fate's the secret ingredient in the recipe of life, Ponyboy. Just add water." And then she was gone, whooshed away by her boyfriend. Gloria, Marcia and Marcia's boyfriend followed suit.  
  
Hours later, Mrs. Mathews dropped by. She had a carrot dangling from her mouth since she was trying to quit smoking. She looked like a parody of Bugs Bunny. Boy, do I need Saturday morning cartoons.  
  
As she yelled at the cop for hauling her boy down, I noticed little Chiffon Mathews. She was about thirteen, real cute with curly blonde hair and soft freckles painted across her face. Underneath all the make-up and peek-a- boo clothing was a lost, confused and generally sweet girl. But she didn't want to be a sweet, innocent girl. I shook my head. She would be the next Anya.  
  
Two-Bit managed to sneak out of the jail (although he nearly got thrown back for making an inappropriate hand gesture to the fuzz) while the rest of us rotted away. Darry was leaning forward, face down. Kat was lying lazily across the bench, and Anya was huddled in a corner.  
  
"Where the hell is she?" I heard Mr. Angus Randle yell. He stumbled into the jail, and shook his head, crying. "Dear God, Anya.I'd hoped I'd never see you here." Mrs. Julia Randle was behind him, cowering before him. That's how their relationship worked. Mr. Randle did the yelling and his wife timidly replied. It was really sad to watch.  
  
"C'mon, Anya, dear, let's get you home," Mrs. Randle said. The fuzz opened Anya's cage and set her free. But how can Anya fly with a broken wing? She was no longer crying on the outside, but she was shaking badly. Her lip trembled with the thought of being truly alone. That was Anya's fear. And now she was facing it. Perhaps that hurt more then any bullet.  
  
They took Anya away, whispering in her ear and patting her on the shoulders. Her face was lost, distant, afraid. Like the type of pictures that you see in the photos of Vietnamese children. No one wanted us to go to Vietnam. We were the scum of Tulsa. Maybe that's why they would want us to go to Vietnam because we were the scum of Tulsa.  
  
And so Anya exited, whooshed away to see her beloved cousin. She was stripped of everything, her innocence, her cousin, and Soda, the love of her life. Maybe that's what being alone was truly about. I remembered after Dally and Johnny died, all I wanted to be was left alone, but I couldn't, because there was always someone, whether it be a gossipy classmate, or a greedy journalist, or some burnt out member of the faculty who wanted to "help" or know the full story.  
  
"You want to know how to help?" I told them, staring blankly in their cold, beady eyes. "Leave me the fuck alone." I got detention for about a week afterwards.  
  
Soda came to pick us up a long time after Anya left. I'm not sure whether that was good or not. At the time I wasn't too sure what was going on with Anya, but I had a general idea about it. He told the fuzz that he was here to see Darry and Kat and myself, and that they were mere witnesses to the entire thing. Didn't do any good. The fuzz then spent an hour interrogating us, asking everything about it.  
  
"I don't remember." They shook their heads, or dunked their crusty donuts into their black coffee, or swore under their breath.  
  
"For the last time, tell us--"  
  
"I don't remember." I didn't. I remember Spike taking the gun and shoving it down his throat and pulling the trigger. That was it. I told them what really happened, and they didn't believe me.  
  
"He'd be brains splattered across the street if he did that."  
  
"Maybe he should've." The fuzz got fed up with me, and let me go. They released Cloud back to Kat, who immediately stopped fussing once she was in her mother's arms. I sat by the window in Darry's truck.  
  
Darry was asking Soda, "Have you seen Steve yet?"  
  
Soda shook his head.  
  
"How'd you know to pick us up?"  
  
Soda shrugged.  
  
"Do you know about Spike?"  
  
Soda shook his head again. Quite verbal today, aren't we? Kat was explaining to me about Julio and how he took her money, and how Cloud was looking too good. Darry was cradling Kat's head and kissed her on the forehead. His eyes were bloodshot and glazed and even a little confused. Normally I would hate Julio, but I didn't. It was like listening to Kat talk to the dashboard radio. They weren't talking about Julio, they were talking about Elvis and the Beatles and the Rolling Stones. They were arguing about the next song they were to play; Kat wanted the Beatles, but the radio insisted on playing the Stones.  
  
We parked the car in front of our house. It seemed so empty and cold. I wandered the halls, listening to the ghosts of past conversations. Of happier times. Of golden times. That's what Johnny meant. Normally I liked finding the deeper meaning in things. Today I didn't. Then again, I don't think anything's normal anymore.  
  
Darry lay in the armchair, stroking Kat's raven black hair and cuddling a sleeping Cloud. Soda was stretched out on the couch. They were all expressionless. Nobody said anything. What was left to be said? Steve was in the slammer, Spike was (hopefully) dying and Anya was sexually abused. Now I realized it. I hated winter. I liked gold and spring. I liked dawn.  
  
No one said a word as I slipped out of the house. Downtown was the best place to think about stuff like this. Like why hadn't we gone to see Steve? He was our buddy, we should go and support him. Support what? That he had shot a fellow teenager? Even a completely evil and corrupt one? Maybe Steve was some sort of renegade angel, and he took out demonic Spike and it was all for some unknown reason. Or what if it was the other way around?  
  
Downtown wasn't making me feel any better. Everybody was going about their normal lives. I even saw a friggin' wedding proposal down at the fountain. A wedding proposal! On a day like this? I saw children laughing and riding on their bikes. I wanted to take their bikes and snap them in half. Ha ha! If I was going to be miserable, so would they. I'd love to hear what my counselor would have to say about this.  
  
I stopped in the drug store and began flipping through comic books. Kabam! Pow! Boom! Flash Gordon's latest arch nemesis lay dead. Steve was Flash Gordon. Evie was Dale Arden. They would live happily ever after.  
  
Speaking of Evie, I saw her at the drug store. She was trying to sell the cashier some worn records. She had on an old dress and a torn shawl. Our eyes met briefly. Her eyes were hollow, sad, worn. Maybe she was feeling what Steve was feeling. What was Steve feeling? I never got to know, for she went back to pleading with the cashier.  
  
Resisting the urge to rip the little dinging bell off the door, I exited the drug store and continued to wander. I remember going to the dentist's office, when we could actually pay for it, and having the dentist proudly say "No cavities" and then hand me a toothbrush and a lollipop. I doubt it'd be no cavities if I ate the lollipop. I gave it to Soda, because I always gave my lollipops to Soda. And then he'd give it to the pretty blonde haired girl with the missing tooth who'd always get her hair cut at the barbershop. Her name was Sandy.  
  
On the outskirts of Tulsa, I noticed a hippie House of Drugs. It was way too bright for the dull, wolfishly colored sky, with slogans spray painted all over it. I'd never been in a hippie house. Never wanted to. But that was before forever.  
  
As I entered the house, there was a dead looking hippie chick sitting on the couch. She was blonde, slender and tall, and would've been pretty if she wasn't so pale. In one hand was the dying life of a joint of grass. Her eyes were a dying gray, and they glazed across the panorama until they landed on me. She weakly offered the joint, "Want some?"  
  
Normally I would've said no. But as I've repeated, that was then. "Yes." She handed me the joint and I sat down beside her and smoke. It was actually somewhat comforting. I wanted it to drown out the voices of all the problems I had. I wanted to leave behind the chains I'd been dragging around.  
  
"You look like you cold use it," the dead looking hippie chick said. I looked to her. I'd rarely seen her around town, though at school I'd seen her skipping school to smoke pot with the rest of the hippies on the front lawn. She was a senior, or had been one. In my Civics class, I think, always wanted to save the world and all that good shit. Her name was Hush, if I remember correctly.  
  
"Yeah," I murmured. "Thanks."  
  
"No problem," Hush replied. Hush looked truly dead. Like an undead zombie. She was the Grim Reaper, knocking on others' doors to take their souls away. This was her personal little Hell or Heaven, whatever you wanted it to be.  
  
"Just a lot on my mind," I told her. I don't know why I was.  
  
"Yeah," she replied. "Dig alright. I just found out my dad wasn't my dad."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah," Hush murmured, smoking again. "Mom kept it from me forever."  
  
"Didn't that annoy you?" I asked. I began thinking blankly about Sarah again. She'd kept a secret from me. Forget about Sarah and just smoke.  
  
"I guess," Hush shrugged. "I mean, she had her reasons. Mommy dearest was a prostitute, so she could make money. She didn't want to tell me I was a bastard, because it hurt her too much and she wanted me to live normally." Hush laughed. "Look at me now. I wish everyone could live like me." I wanted to say, you mean having your soul sucked from you to the point you laid around all day looking dead, but didn't say anything. I never do, anyway.  
  
"I remember it clearly," she continued. "I was a 'good' girl then, before I saw the light and became a Buddhist, and I had just come home for cheerleading. No one was home, except this creepy guy on our couch. Mom later told me he was only checking up on us and was supposed to have headed out before I came home, but guess that didn't happen. They put him in the kitchen in the back room, but the front door was lock so I used the back door and found him there.  
  
"So I talked to him and asked who he was and he said 'my father'. I thought he was kidding. He explained the whole story, how he met my mom and how they'd fooled around and how I was the product of that. It was in way too accurate detail to be made up. And then he just left." I had no idea why she was telling me about all of this, but I figured it served some sort of purpose to her.  
  
"Anyway, I asked my mom about it and she broke down and told me the truth. That was the day I became a hippie. Here there's no biological fathers or mothers, we just live as one." Hush seemed real proud of that fact, and smoked some more. She then turned her gaze lazily to spot a pile of brownies on the table. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what the brownies really were.  
  
"Didn't that tick you off about her hiding that for years?" I asked.  
  
"Nope," Hush replied. "I know why she did it. The man I grew up thinking my father would've always been my real dad." She chuckled, "Now that I look back on it, it's like it was fate." I opened my eyes widely. Sarah was doing the same thing to me. Why should I care about what her mother did? That was in the past. Sarah was just confused, afraid.  
  
"Hey, you can stay here for a while," Hush offered. "Share the love and all."  
  
I nodded. That's all I needed to do.  
  
DARRY  
  
I think Mom and Dad were probably rolling over in the graves. They had always raised the three of us to be respectable citizens despite the conditions we lived in. And now here we were, the two least likely to be jailed, in jail.  
  
Basically, Soda came by and said he was here to pick up Pony, Kat and I and then the cops interrogated us about what happened. I answered the questions as realistically as I could; I tired making Steve appear less criminally then the cops were probably expecting. They just nodded, shrugged and then sent me on.  
  
Kat and I waited outside the front of the police station. She was sitting on the bench, her knee bouncing because she was so nervous. Soda went around the back to have a smoke. He never smoked unless something bothered him. I think this incident would be put under that category.  
  
I sat down next to Kat and looked around nervously. I didn't really have any idea of what to say. I never was good with words. I could hear Kat murmuring, "God, what if she finds out about this? She'll take Cloud away." Frankly, I couldn't blame her for worrying about her daughter. There'd be no doubt that Ms. Fisher could and might possibly would swoop down and snatch Cloud if she found out her "parents" were involved in something like this.  
  
"Don't think that," I told her. "C'mon, Kat, they aren't going to take Cloud away."  
  
"We don't know that," she whispered, afraid that if she spoke any louder she'd snap my eardrums. "I don't even know where they took my baby."  
  
"We'll get through this," I comforted her. "C'mon, Kat, we'll get through this together."  
  
"I sure hope so," sighed Kat. She gazed over at me. Her eyes were blurry, and it looked like she'd spent eternity crying. I knew she hadn't, because I'd been one cell away from her, but I think deep down she had been.  
  
"Come here," I said. Kat found safety in my arms. I hadn't realized how much they'd ached to hold her until that moment. I brushed away her bangs and kissed her forehead. She kissed my forearm and held onto me like we were dying together.  
  
"I'm worried," she whispered.  
  
"I know," I murmured back. "I am too." A young cop with straw blonde hair pushed open the doors and looked around before reading his clipboard, "Is there a Darrel Shaynne Curtis and a Sodapop Patrick Curtis?"  
  
"Yeah," I answered diligently, standing up. I didn't want to leave Kat, but I had to. Soda walked around the corner and threw out his cigarette. He held up a hand to indicate that he was Soda. I was wondering if he was ever going to speak again.  
  
"Ponyboy's finished with interrogation," the cop announced with his heavy, Louisiana drawl.  
  
"What about Steve?" I asked. "What's the verdict there?"  
  
"Well," the cop replied, hitching his thumbs in his belt loops, "there's gonna be a trial, obviously. And I can guarantee the parents are gonna sue."  
  
"What's the worst that he could get?" asked Kat, joining my side. That's where I always wanted her to be, right beside me. That's where I hoped we'd always be, after all of this calmed down.  
  
"Considering that he's still technically a minor, five to ten years in jail," replied the cop. "Then probably some rehab work." I heard Soda make a choking sound. A lump formed in my throat as the cop led us in. Ponyboy looked dazed and confused like the rest of us. They told us that although we were free to go home, they'd be keeping a close eye on us. I nodded, signed all the papers, told them I'd never do it again, and then the rest of us left. Kat had Cloud back in her arms, and the two seemed a little happier.  
  
The drive home took the sound and tone of a silent movie. Soda still hadn't spoken, which sort of scared us. Kat explained that Julio had jumped her and split with all her money. I swore and shook my head, but there was nothing I could do. I offered to loan Kat some of my money, but she refused. She wanted to earn the money, not live off others. I admired that about her. The minute we got home, Kat, Cloud and I collapsed in my armchair. Cloud was fast asleep already. Pony was too restless to stay home and just stood up and left. I didn't yell at him to stay home or interrogate about his whereabouts, just let him go. Maybe that's what I should do more often, just let him go.  
  
The first real sound I heard was the phone ringing. No one wanted to get it. Kat, being the mature one, did. She walked over and picked up the receiver. "Hello?" Her voice was crackling like broken china. "Yes, this is she. Oh, hi Larry." It was Larry, our black friend who went back to Harlem. Why was he calling for Kat?  
  
"Oh my God," murmured Kat. "Are you serious." Soda and I met eyes. This couldn't be too good. "How? Why?" There were always long pauses and then short questions. As if Kat couldn't form  
  
"When is it? This Friday? Ok, I'll be there. No, I'm okay. Thanks, Larry." She slowly dropped the receiver. A single tear rolled down her face.  
  
"What's wrong?" I asked. I think I had an idea of what was wrong, but I didn't want to breathe the words, because then it might become true, like I had the Midas touch or something.  
  
"That was Larry from Harlem," she answered. "It's about Crick, my brother. He was shot in a drive-by shooting. He.he's dead." There was nothing I could say that would make her feel any better. I was frankly shocked she hadn't burst into tears. Her only ally, with the possible exception of her stepfather, and now he was dead.  
  
"I-I don't know what to say."  
  
"You don't have to," Kat replied. "That's what I like about you, Darry. We don't ever need words." And then she went into her room to pack for the impending funeral. 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Guess what? I finally updated! Been so busy, I nearly forgot about this story all together. Hey, I have to say some thank-yous. First of all, SodasGurl, thanks a lot for the reviews, you've given one every chapter ever since I first posted so I just wanted to say thanks and I do appreciate them a lot! Thanks also, Newyorkbabe, for going to Chapter Twelve! P.S. Sorry about the weird step-sitting thing, I just got the e- mail and went "ok, random person". Didn't know it was you. Tri.l.wagonk, yeah, school sucks, but thanks for the great compliment on my story. Also, thanks to Starstruck (yay, someone got the Flash Gordon reference), the review was just great. I wanna thank you guys one last time, and here's Chapter Thirteen!  
  
CHAPTER THIRTEEN  
  
PONY  
  
Help me. That simple. Someone throw a lifesaver into the water and save me before I drown beneath the too cold waves. The water's seeping into my nose, my mouth, my ears, I can't breathe. The water takes the form of blonde Socs with unrelenting glares, of bright eyed blonde haired girls reluctantly taking off their clothing, of lonely and overworked people. It takes the form of Johnny and Dally. Somebody save me. Somebody. Anybody. Please?  
  
A voice wakes me from the blackness, "Ponyboy? Ponyboy, get up!"  
  
"Soda.?" I call, my eyes barely a slit. It's not Soda. It's Darry. In a hippie house. Not something you'd see everyday. Darry shook me harder, "Pony, get up!"  
  
"I'm up, I'm up." I muttered, managing to swear softly under my breath as Darry helped me sit up. I rubbed my eyes several times and blinked heavily. The world was hazy. It always was. Especially around here. Nothing was clear cut. And while I get older, everything gets so complicated. I want it to be simple. I want to be 7 and playing with paint-by-numbers kits. Life should be a paint-by-numbers kit. Just dab on the color and you've got your beautiful picture. And then Mom will "ooh" and "aw" over it and then hang it up on the refrigerator. Now everyone can ooh and aw over my lovely paint-by-the-numbers picture. And no one can ruin it.  
  
Strangely enough, Darry asked no questions. Hush, the hippie chick I met, was long gone. Nothing more then a fleeting memory of previous events. She spoke of fate and bastard children. Come home. I want her to come home and speak to me more. I want her dying marijuana and her dying body and her ever-present mind. Come home.  
  
We walked out to the truck, and we silently stepped in. We did everything silently. Darry drove silently. I glanced over to his face. He hardly looked twenty. He looked stressed, eyes bloodshot. He was whispering softly to himself.  
  
"What's wrong?" I croaked. That's it. I'm a frog. That's why I croaked. I'm a frog waiting for a beautiful princess to kiss me and turn me into a prince and make me all better. Sarah is my princess.  
  
Darry swallowed the lump in his throat, "Nothing." Liar. I knew he was lying. He looked so weary and tired.  
  
"Kat.?" I asked. Darry made a soft choking sound, closed his eyes briefly, and nodded, "Yes."  
  
"What happened.?" I asked, scared of my answer.  
  
"Crick. Brother. He died. She's going to Harlem for his funeral." Darry finally managed a full sentence.  
  
I shrugged, "She'll be ok. She'll be back." I think Darry was scared. Darry was scared of Kat taking off and leaving and using her brother's death as a convenient escape. It was then that I realized how much Darry needed Kat.  
  
"She makes me feel young, Ponyboy," Darry blurted. His eyes didn't leave the steering wheel, and he gripped it firmly, as if it was the last thing sticking around. "She's the first person that makes me feel this way, since Mom and Dad died. God, I love her, I LOVE HER!" He shouted to the wind. It didn't bother to listen.  
  
SODA  
  
I haven't spoken. I don't think I ever will. There's nothing left to say. Pony's gone, Steve's in jail, and Anya's.Spike might be dead. That's it. Simple little facts like that.  
  
The court was on a Wednesday. I've been in courtrooms before. When Pony was tried for "murdering" Bob, I was right there. Nervous, eyes shifting to Pony and Darry, I was there. But that was different. Pony had acted in self-defense. Steve acted in vengeance. Maybe Steve was acting in self- defense. Maybe by shooting Spike he stood up for any future girl who Spike would go on to rape. So technically vengeance and self-defense were the same. I had to believe that or otherwise I would be as dead as Spike should have been.  
  
Oh yes, Spike was there. At the court. Boy, did he look like hell. According to the doctors, he's permanently paralyzed. His spinal collar shattered. Oh, he'll survive, but he'll never go through a moment of his life without feeling pain. He'd be feeling the same pain we felt.  
  
We all were there. The gang, of course, the Randles, Cherry and Marcia and Gloria, Spike's parents, all of us. It was like a little reunion. And Steve had to be there too. They brought him in. He glared as he walked past Spike. I think he would've spat at him. Good. He deserved it. Anya let out a soft cry as she watched her cousin walk by, clad in black and white stripes and handcuffs. Steve glanced over his shoulder and nodded at her. I think that's what kept her from falling apart at the seams.  
  
It was a nice little court. People spoke. People like myself and Darry and the Randles and Anya and even Socy Cherry. None of it did any good. We could've called Steve the next Messiah and it wouldn't have done any good. Our words bounced off the lawyers' ears and straight back into our mouths. Facts were facts; Steve shot Spike, end of story. It didn't matter that Anya had been sexually abused. The Randles' lawyer had tried as hard as he could to use that fact, and that Steve was young, but those were greaser facts. They weren't Socy facts, like that Steve had attempted murder. Which is why Steve was sentenced to four years in jail.  
  
There was nothing left to do. Steve was going to jail. He was going to rot there, like Dallas' memory rotted there. Mrs. Randle bawled, her arms reaching for Steve as he walked down the aisle, with Mr. Randle's face contorted in agony, while Anya sat there, quietly, digesting what had happened. I cried. My best friend Steve was going to jail. In a way, I was going with him.  
  
"He's not going to jail," Anya said, determined and through grit teeth. "I don't care what that judge or those lawyers or that jury think, but there's no way Stevie's going to jail." And she meant it. There was nothing that was going to stop Anya from getting Steve out of jail. She was different now. I have no idea what she changed into, but she wasn't and will never be sweet little Anya.  
  
It was about midday Anya stopped by our house. She curtly nodded to me and asked if Darry was home. She didn't look me in the eye, rather she was looking at the couch behind us. Her eyes looked sad, worn out. Darry came to the door and Anya laid down her plan. She was going to bust Steve out of jail. We could either help, or stay out of it, but either way, she said, Steve was going free.  
  
At first, Darry firmly was opposed to the idea. Two-Bit was for it, Kat was uneasy, and Pony was quiet. Two-Bit and Darry argued back and forth. Finally, Darry agreed to the plan. We would sneak into the county jail, dressed as jailers, and sneak out. Two-Bit and Darry went, since Pony and I would get sent to the boy's home. Which meant while they were gone, Anya and I had hours to spend with each other. We could've patched things up. We could've explained the others' point of view. But we said nothing. We never acknowledged the other the entire time. Kat talked to Anya while I simply sat out on the porch, smoking cigarette after cigarette.  
  
When Darry and Two-Bit came back, with the addition of Steve, Anya burst into running and leapt into Steve's arms. It wasn't the same Steve though. Nor was it the same Anya. Steve's hair was a mess, and he had stubble growing on his jaw. His eyes had that same worn look everyone had been wearing these days.  
  
"You and Evie," Anya began, "are you.?"  
  
"Yeah," Steve said gruffly. "She stopped by. We worked things out." It wasn't gonna do any good though. He glanced around, until his worn eyes met mine. I walked down the steps and he pulled me into an embrace and we slapped backs. He then walked past me and gave Kat a warm hug. She was leaving. Steve was leaving. Everyone had a one-way ticket out of Tulsa.  
  
Dusk settled upon Tulsa. The cops were now searching for Steve, and he had to run. Anya had packed his things, and all of us stood beside Buck Merril's Thunderbird. Anya had pulled some strings and had guilt Merril into lending Steve the car. I don't think Merril wanted it anymore either.  
  
Like a general to his troops, Steve went down the line. He grinned when he saw Two-Bit, "You take care of my kid cousin."  
  
"You know I will," Two-Bit said. When Two-Bit gave his word, he meant it. He'd protect Anya with his life if it came to that. The Randles and Mrs. Mathews had decided that it was for the best if Anya stayed with the Mathews. Not us. The Mathews. He gave Kat a hug and shook Darry's hand, "Thanks for everything."  
  
"You're always welcome," Kat smiled warmly. Steve twirled Cloud around one last time before returning her to her mother. He nodded to Ponyboy, "Take care, kiddo." They had never had a good relationship. Never. Steve didn't like Pony and Pony didn't like Steve. Yet Pony smiled, and said, "You too, Steve."  
  
He nodded at his father. I don't think he thought words were necessary. They'd somewhat patched things up, but I don't know how or why or any of the details. His mother kissed him on the cheek. And then it was me and Anya. Like it always was. He hugged Anya, and whispered some words into her ear. She nodded, and looked like she was going to cry some more. This was her plan, and she knew that in the end Steve would have to go.  
  
And then it was me and Steve. Best buddies since for as long as anyone can remember. We'd spent forever talking. And now we had nothing left to say. How ironic was that? We'd just run out of things to say. I wasn't going to see him for two, three, four years because he'd be away, in Las Vegas is where he'd told us he'd be.  
  
"Soda."  
  
"Steve." I didn't want to say anything. I was afraid of having the words leave my lips and hang in the air for all eternity. Because then if I spoke, it'd ruin the nice bubble of silence we had, and then that would shatter the surreal quality of all this.  
  
"Yeah," Steve coughed, clearing his throat. "I wish that this hadn't ended this way, me leaving. I guess we all thought Dally would be the first to get jailed for murder." We laughed.  
  
"Take care of yourself, Steve," I told him.  
  
Steve shrugged, "I can't do any worse." And then he stepped into the Thunderbird and drove off. Everyone else slowly turned, branched off and left, after a suitable mourning period, which was until the Thunderbird could not be seen. In the morning the fuzz would stop by and question us, and we'd all shake our heads and said we hadn't heard from him but that they'd be the first to know if we received any word. Everyone left but Anya and I. I glanced over at her. Her hair was lifted in the breeze, and occasionally clouded her eyesight, but I don't think she cared. For a brief moment she was Anya Randle, the love of my life. And then it was gone in a second, just as quickly as Steve had left.  
  
PONY  
  
I didn't know that things would get worse. First Steve left, then Kat and Cloud had to go for a funeral. Now this. It was just the next day, in the late afternoon. Two-Bit and I were at a Dairy Queen getting a quick bite to eat when we saw, lo and behold, Adrienne and Trista, the two Socy whores (one of whom had been Spike's consolation prize), in front of us. They were gossiping about something or other. Meanwhile, Two-Bit was gone, flirting with Tallulah Beckett (yet again), so I just happened to listen in.  
  
Adrienne's penciled in lips moved, "And for your information, I never liked Spike. It was just a thing, a phase."  
  
"That's good," Trista said. "Looks like he's not the only one in the hospital. Did you hear about that bitch Sarah?"  
  
"I know!" giggled Adrienne. "She so deserved what she got. She got hit by a car. A fucking car!" Giggle giggle, snort snort. I couldn't believe it. At first I thought they were kidding. Despite the fact that they were Socs and were undeclared whores, I asked, "What do you mean about Sarah?"  
  
"What?" asked Adrienne, blinking. Her lip curled in disgust at me, "Get lost, greaser. She'd probably be your type anyway."  
  
"I said," I snapped indignantly. "What happened to Sarah?!" I think I had scared them into submission, for neither of them had any expression on their face. Then it sunk in, and Adrienne began spilling the details, "Sarah van Pelt got hit by a car the other day."  
  
"I feel so bad for her," Trista lied, acting sympathetic.  
  
"There's a good chance she might not make it," continued Adrienne. "Oh, I'm so worried!" I took off, and heard Adrienne calling, "Send her our regards!" Yeah. I'll tell her you're just another phony. My God. Sarah. Dead. In a hospital. Just like Johnny.  
  
I rushed into the hospital door's arms, and it let me flow right past it. I stumbled, my mind ablaze. No, not my Sarah. Take me. I stopped the first doctor I could find, "Can you tell me where Sarah van Pelt is."  
  
"Whadya know, I'm on my way to her," the doctor said, good-natured. "Are you a relative?"  
  
I lied like Adrienne, "Yeah. Yeah." He ushered me up a couple floors and into a bland looking hospital room painted with flowers and get-well cards. As if Sarah had just had her tonsils removed. I saw the maid and a tall, slim man with a thin mustache who I had to assume was Mr. van Pelt, though he bared no resemblence to his daughter. And then lying in the bed was Sarah van Pelt, the one girl I ever truly loved. She looked so trashed, her eyes dazed, her hair matted with sweat.  
  
"Sarah?" I managed to say.  
  
"Pony.?" she asked, her head tilting over to see me. "Pony.!"  
  
"Are you Ponyboy Curtis?" Mr. van Pelt asked. From town gossip I'd heard, he was a banker, rather snobby elitist. I didn't care. He was Sarah's father, and that's all that mattered. I nodded, "Yes."  
  
"She's been calling for you ever since she got here," Mr. van Pelt said, shaking my hand as if I'd won some sort of Olympic event. The maid blew her nose. Mr. van Pelt whispered, as if he didn't want Sarah to hear, "She's not going to.to make it." He seemed calm and collected, despite the fact that Sarah.that Sarah would be taking a holiday.  
  
"Pony!" It was Sarah, her voice urgent. She needed me. Now. I knelt beside her bed, and with all her strength she clutched my arms, "Pony, Pony, Pony."  
  
"Yeah, I'm here," I said. "Shhh.calm down."  
  
"Pony, I'm so sorry," she said. Tears slowly squeezed themselves out of her eyes and drifted down her porcelain face. "I need to.need to give you this, Pony. It'll explain everything." She handed me a worn book, with a leather binding and pages bursting from the lock. I took it and clutched it. It was my Bible.  
  
"I've heard the doctors whisper. I don't have much longer," she said. She lifted her free arm to beckon her father and her maid. They immediately hurried over and her father stood beside her. He'd stand beside her until Death came and took her away.  
  
Sarah smiled contently, "I'll die with the three people I love most."  
  
"Sarah, no." I whispered. "I love you so much, dear God, don't leave."  
  
Sarah shook her head. She was stubborn. She was intent on dying; "It's my time, Ponyboy. Everything happens for a reason. But." her voice drifted off, "I love you too. And for the end of time, I'll love you. It's because our love is a love beyond love, Ponyboy. We're greater then Antony and Cleopatra, Bonnie and Clyde, Romeo and Juliet, all of them. We leave them in the dust. And that's where we'll be, Ponyboy Curtis. We'll be in first place." She was quoting Edgar Allen Poe. Of all times to quote a morbid poet now seemed the least appropriate, and yet I didn't care. We were silent, our breaths held, waiting for the climax. Waiting for Sarah to die.  
  
Sarah smiled yet again, "And now I can die in peace." And Sarah closed her eyes, smiled one last time and died peacefully on June the 22nd. The maid burst into tears, Mr. van Pelt stood silently behind his daughter, but tears were streaming down his face as well. And I stood up, wandered back to my house, and then quietly died as well. 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

AUTHOR'S NOTE--Yep, this is the end. Is anyone still reading this? Wow, there's a lot of people I want to thank. I'll start off with those who ever reviewed, a big thank you to: Sammie, SodasGurl, TimeTravller, CuteCarly, BSBnACcHiCk, Starstruck, Bega, Karlei Shaynner, twobitsgreaserbabi, Grr (baah), newyorkbabe, Rhea Silvia and fyremoon. I also want to give a huge thank-you to SodasGurl, whom I never meant to made cry but thank you for giving such flattering praise, and fyremoon, whom I took her e-mail and review to heart and did purchase the book she recommended. Your reviews were quite amazing because I never knew I could strike such emotion from this story.  
  
Yeah, this is the last chapter; I do have an epilogue in mind so just tell me in the review if you want one. I've been working on this since August, and I'm amazed at all the reviews I've gotten and quite grateful for them. I'll shut up, and I hope you like how it ends. Here it is, Chapter Fourteen.  
  
CHAPTER FOURTEEN  
  
DARRY  
  
Those days that Kat was gone was a living hell. No one was ever the same again. We rarely saw Two-Bit, and never at all saw Anya anymore. After the death of the girl, Ponyboy locked himself in his room. Soda didn't particularly notice, because he walked around in a daze, jaw slack, eyes blurry, never entirely there. He wasn't ever there. He was with Anya when she sat on the steps of the Mathews house and inhaled a rare smoke, or he was with Steve driving away from everything.  
  
I felt like the seams were coming apart. And I began to slip in this unknown oblivion that had consumed our gang viciously, one by one. Its jaws with the sharp teeth devoured Johnny and Dally whole, then led poor Anya, and then the whole ship went down. We were just mere passengers aboard a sinking Titanic. We could switch seats, attempt to barter lifeboats, or even keep playing with the rest of the orchestral band, but we were all going to die anyway. Even though our bodies functioned and we walked around aimlessly, we were all dead.  
  
I think I finally realized the situation when I missed a day of work without calling in. I didn't know I'd missed the entire day, I just sat down in this thrift store chair that was in a corner of my room and stared at the peeling wallpaper of my room. Kat used to sleep in my room, tucked in tight with her beautiful little daughter that I'd come to acknowledge as my own. Her hands used to touch these walls. Her hands used to touch my face lovingly. And now it was gone.  
  
Things got a little more confusing when the cops stopped by. I probably would've offered them coffee or something, but no one was taking care of the house anymore. Shirts lay strewn about, unwashed dishes piling in the sink. It looked like a tornado had hit us. Little did anyone know that a tornado had hit us; it was called reality.  
  
As expected, the cops had stopped by to ask about Steve, if we'd seen him, blah blah blah. Apparently, Anya had given them a very convincing story, as well as the Randles and the Mathews. The cops wanted to ask Soda, but he just spent hours in the bathroom, excessively bathing or greasing his hair. He didn't go to his job, so I'd called in the DX saying he was taking maternal leave. I don't think anyone but Diane his boss would've found that funny. If Soda wasn't in the bathroom, he was sitting on the couch, where he'd stare blankly as he watched "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes", which he did every day from 4-6 before heading back to the bathroom to either bathe or grease or whatever. And the cops couldn't budge the door that led to Ponyboy's room.  
  
I have no idea why I was letting our house slip into this oblivion we'd created within ourselves. It was just that everything had hit us so quickly and unexpectedly, that many times we'd have to sit down and re- evaluate what had happened, having it play in our minds like old films. One night, I went to sleep crying, crying about Kat and crying about how I'd failed at being my brothers' guardians. I let Ponyboy lock himself in his room, and let Soda walk around with his face to the ground.  
  
It was mid-tears that the phone rang for the first time since everything had happened. Everyone had avoided ringing our door or even calling us. Two-Bit had only stopped by once, and that was to tell me he was getting drafted into the Vietnam war. I asked about Anya, and Two-Bit's eyes shifted over to where Soda was sitting, eyes firmly placed on Marilyn Monroe dancing away. I think I saw him glance over when I mentioned Anya, and then he sadly turned his head to watch Jane Russell sing. Two-Bit shrugged, said she'd never stayed in the house long enough to find out. She was always out, either tagging along with Mrs. Mathews to help wait tables, or to the movies where she'd sit on the bench outside the movie theatre. She'd once been seen at the Dingo with Bryon Douglas. Two-Bit had no word on whether they were dating or not. I think Soda took that the hardest, because he immediately dashed into the bathroom to take a bath even before the credits had rolled.  
  
Sorry, got a bit sidetracked there. Anyway, Kat called. I think she recognized the sadness in my voice, because she energetically said, "Hey baby."  
  
"Kat," I mumbled. "You're back."  
  
"You better believe it. Miss me?"  
  
"Of course." There was a long silence. I composed myself; I ripped the T- shirt I was wearing to reveal the big shiny S, because I'm Superman. Then I asked, "Can I see you?"  
  
"I wish you could," Kat sniffed, "but it's too late. Cloud's asleep, and.and there's just too much going on right now I need to figure out. I just wanted to hear your voice again."  
  
I nodded. No Kat for me. I asked, "How was it?"  
  
"Well, there's not much you can say about seeing your big brother in a casket," Kat replied bluntly. "I promise, I'll see you tomorrow. Kay?"  
  
"OK." I hung up the phone, and then for the first time in days set to cleaning the house up.  
  
The next day, I called in sick to work and trekked to the 7-11 Kat worked at. As I pushed open the door and saw her face, I broke out into the first grin I'd had since all of this had happened. Kat smiled weakly too. Cloud was sitting up on the counter top, playing with the cash register's buttons, fascinated by it. I didn't know how much I missed Cloud either.  
  
"Hey," I whispered, because I was afraid if I spoke any louder she'd crumble. She seemed to barely be keeping it together, but she managed to say wearily, "Hey yourself."  
  
I walked over to her, and wrapped my arms around her waist and kissed her on the neck. She closed her eyes and smiled, "I missed you."  
  
"I missed you too," I whispered back. We didn't say much, but I felt Kat silently shaking, and salt water squeezing out of her jeweled eyes.  
  
"Don't cry, Momma," Cloud pleaded. She began crying to match Kat, and Kat just patted her on the head and wiped a tear from her daughter's eye. This satisfied Cloud and she went back to cashing imaginary items.  
  
"What happened?" I asked.  
  
"Crick's dead," Kat murmured. "He was the only one that actually believed in me. My brother Paul and my dad and my stepfather loved me, but I don't think that after I had Cloud they ever thought I could do anything. It was just Crick and me, because we were both the losers. While my mother.my mother and I have irreconcilable differences."  
  
"What'd she say?"  
  
"Words."  
  
"Besides that?" She wasn't going to budge. "Please?"  
  
"She just said that the social worker was crazy and that I should stop running around with bad boys and to get an actual good job and to put Cloud into adoption because it's what's best for her and about a billion other things to do."  
  
"She thought I was bad?" I asked, smirking a little.  
  
Kat coyly smiled back, "Yep, my big bad Darry."  
  
"You better believe it," I replied. I then kissed her cheek again and wiped away her tears. Hopefully I could wipe away her problems just as easily as her tears. I knew that would never happen. But at the moment, I didn't care, because I was her big bad Darry, and that's all that mattered to me.  
  
I stared at her Cracker Jack ring that I'd given her so long ago, "Someday I'm gonna buy you a real one of these. Not one that you get out of the bottom of a bag. At a real place, where salespeople wait on you hand and foot as you spend hours picking out the right diamond. When I get the money, I swear on my parents' soul I will marry you."  
  
Kat smiled, "Sounds like a plan to me." And we spent the rest of the afternoon together, just the three of us, because in reality we'd be spending the rest of our lives together.  
  
SODA  
  
After watching "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes" for the seventeenth time, I could only stare outside our tattered curtains and gaze into the street. It was one of the hottest days of the year, being June and all, and yet I kept the curtains shut, windows locked, toiling in my own personal Hell I'd created for myself. At least I wouldn't be wearing a fucking hat asking "Is that all?" to every person that came to my register bearing candy bars or soft drinks. Never trust Socs bearing candy bars. I should get that plastered on the door.  
  
When Two-Bit stopped by to say he was in the Vietnam war, I think I seriously died. Not died like Pony's girl died, but close. After all this happened, I just died. So I take baths like I always do, hoping to drown in my own sorrow and anguish that I brought onto myself. This isn't my fault. It really isn't.  
  
Anya was out there, and had probably forgotten all about me. That's all that I'd heard when he'd talked about her. She'd moved on to someone who could actually give her the world on a polished silver platter, and take her to honeymoons outside of the state and buy her presents every anniversary they had. She'd moved on to someone brighter and better then me, because deep down I always knew Anya would move on to someone better then me. I just never admitted it to myself, swallowing it down to rot in my stomach acids with a million bad lines taken from romantic movies.  
  
I stood up to take another bath, and contemplated briefly about turning the water up to hot, except realizing that our water wouldn't go beyond a warm temperature. And then I wondered that if I buried my head under it, could I drown before Darry came home? And then it finally struck me, that me, happy go lucky Sodapop, was actually seriously thinking all this. It didn't matter too much to me.  
  
As I prepared the water, I gazed into the mirror. I didn't look recognizable. I looked more like some sort of town hermit cast off to live in the woods, with my stubble and bloodshot eyes. So I took a razor and shaved myself. After surviving my bath, I threw on new clothes for the first time. It was my DX outfit, with my cap and shirt with my name stitched in by Mrs. Mathews, who'd stitched it for me as a favor. And since Darry took the car, I decided to walk to the DX. I don't know why I was leaving the house, because everything only reminded me of Steve or Anya. I inhaled the fresh summer air, having it's muggy atmosphere robe me in safety. I'd forgotten what fresh air smelled like, I'd forgotten what people other then Darry or Two-Bit or the two cops looked like. And I'd hoped I might've even forgotten what love and heartbreak felt like. In that case, no such luck.  
  
When my boss, Diane, saw me, she smiled and asked how the baby was. I had no idea what she was talking about, but just smiled anyway. Or at least tried to, my muscles were too stiff to even make the slightest movement. So Diane did the smiling for me, and patted me with her chunky arm and told me to start work on the register. I saw the new guy they hired to take over for Steve. I tried hard to look away because if I didn't then I think I'd cry right there. And greasers aren't supposed to know how to cry. We forgot to.  
  
It was then when I think I understood about what Ponyboy was babbling about fate and all. Because at that very moment, Anya Randle walked right back into my life. Or at least, she walked right into the convenience area. God, was she beautiful. Marilyn Monroe and all those other movie stars paled in comparison. Her hair was tousled and uncombed, unlike its usual sleek straightness, but her hair never lost its luster. The wind blew her long dress up to show her mother's old high heels. Her eyes of caramel were just as brilliant, though a little clouded over. She looked around, then side to side, as if she was a celebrity who'd just arrived at a big glitzy awards show.  
  
Her eyes met mine, and she smiled, but it was weak and weary, just like everybody in this town. I said nothing and just looked away. You know the funny thing? I completely forgot why I was mad at her in the first place.  
  
"You're not making this easy." I shrugged. Was I supposed to give her a get-out-of-jail-free card? Apparently, she did so with Steve. Literally.  
  
"It was only a part time job," Anya said. She played with her scarf wrapped around her neck before looking back up at me. "I would've never done it if I'd know it meant so much."  
  
"What do you think I was going to do, just say 'okay, my girlfriend's a stripper'?" I asked. It was the first words I'd spoken since the entire ordeal, with Spike and the club and Steve and the gun and all of it. They were hardly the first words I wanted to say, especially to someone I loved as much as Anya. She just shrugged, and her eyes were misty, sullen.  
  
"It doesn't matter anymore," she said looking away. "You've made your decision. It's over then, right?" She waited for me to confirm the undeniable. We could never just sew a patch in the hole of our jeans and say everything was better, back to Start you go. We would never have honeymoon bliss again. It was like we'd divorced without ever having the joy of being wed.  
  
Anya turned to leave, "I don't even know why I came here."  
  
"What about Douglas?"  
  
Turning slowly, Anya met my worn eyes. She looked like she wasn't quite sure of what to make of my comment. And then she sighed and muttered, "You asshole."  
  
"What about Douglas?" I reiterated.  
  
"What about him?" she asked. Pause. Long pause this time. I hate pauses. But I think this one was supposed to mean something. It wasn't a lack of words, it was the decision of choosing which words to say first. In order.  
  
"I'm--"  
  
"Shut up," she whispered, and then dashed into my arms, like a page ripped from one of those 5 cent romance novels. She collapsed into my arms, and I collapsed to the ground, dragging her with me. We kissed like I don't think we've ever kissed. And then there we were, in each other's arms, on the dirty floor of the little store I worked in.  
  
"I'm sorry," she whispered.  
  
"Yeah," I murmured back. "I'm sorry too." And that's when you hit that one point, where words mean nothing, and just staring out as cars drive by and children scream and laugh is all that really matters.  
  
PONYBOY  
  
Since Sarah's died, I've read every book in my room, smoked five packs of cigarettes and died every half hour. I've never once gotten an hour of sleep, because every time I drift off to sleep, I see her face, and she's whispering to me and telling me how happy she is. And it's not like in movies where the dead person is all white and fuzzy. She's clear as the crystal chandeliers that used to hang in her house, and she's beautiful. She's no longer wearing the hospital gown, she's in this beautiful medieval gown, and in her arms is a suit of armor just for me. And she smiles and tells me how happy she is and that she's just waiting for me. And yet they're still nightmares.  
  
It's taking too long though. I don't want to wait for "my time" to come. I want to die now. Please. I used to listen to Johnny speak about killing himself, how bad his life was and he just wanted it to end so he could at least be in some sort of peace. I never really gave too much thought to God and Heaven and all that until Johnny and Dally, and now with the addition of Sarah, died. I'm not sure if I want to believe it or not.  
  
No one understands what I'm going through, because they're all silently yet surely dying as well. Darry's been in a daze, I can hear him murmuring to himself in his room. Sometimes he even has conversations with himself, mostly pretending to talk to Kat although I've heard him talk to Mom and Dad also. I can hear the water running non-stop in the bathroom, and I know its Soda. I can hear "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes" playing non-stop in the other room, and I know that's Soda too. I can even quote entire scenes of the movie, because that's all I'm doing these days. I'm listening with my rotting corpse ears. That's all that's left now, is my ears to listen silently to all the turmoil going on in this fading house.  
  
I hate spending all this time wasting away, moaning about how life is too tough and that it should just end. I want to live again, I want to be a real boy. I want Sarah to be with me. I want her to know that I'm not mad at her anymore, that I love her so much that I'm overflowing with it. In my dreams, she says that she still loves me. She says that the afterlife is a pretty nice place. She's even having dinner later with Humphrey Bogart. She always loved his movies.  
  
This is taking too long. I'm tired of sitting at the side of my bed, the only thing keeping me from melting into nothing is this bedpost I'm propping my life against. That's all I have left to support me is this stupid bedpost. I'm tired of hanging on by a thread of dental floss. I want to take scissors and cut it off. Sarah was right. This is the last act. Romeo had to die.  
  
So I stood up. This took quite a bit of energy then I expected, because I hadn't moved since Sarah had died, and I'd forgotten how many days it'd been. Four? Five? I'd lost count. It wouldn't particularly matter. Because all of this would be over. And I could join Sarah and introduce her to Johnny and Dally and we'd all be happy. I could finally be happy.  
  
I made my way past the piles of books and shoved the chair holding the door shut out of my way. I wanted this deeply, passionately. I threw open the door and looked around. From the likes of it, no one was there. Apparently everyone had forgotten about my stay in my room. Maybe they were having sojourns to their rooms as well. I didn't particularly care; I wasn't going to leave a note or anything. It'd take too long, and besides, I didn't need to explain why I was doing this. Everyone should know by now.  
  
I stumbled into the kitchen, nearly tripping on the debris in the way. My fingers flashed to the cabinet, and I took armfuls of bottles filled with pretty little pills. I wasn't quite sure which ones did what, but I know they should all do the trick. Next, I scavenged the refrigerator. We always had a bottle of vodka when Two-Bit would visit. I heard him and Darry talking; he's going off to 'Nam. Guess he wouldn't need the bottle anymore. So I took it for him and added a shot glass before hurrying back into my room, slamming the door on my way.  
  
Clumsily, I fumbled to open up the pill bottles. Damn child locks. Open! I want to get this over with, I don't have all day. My mind was a haze, and I wasn't really spending too much time on the thought that I was going to end my mortal existence. All I thought about was what lay beyond that. The only place where there weren't Socs and greasers. Just people. Dead people, but people nonetheless.  
  
I yanked the cap off and it flew out of my hands. Its contents spilled all over my bedroom floor, laying there helplessly. They were pink pills, large ones, but I think I could swallow 'em easily. My hands shaking feverishly, I pulled off the vodka bottle's cap. Slowly, I poured the vodka into the shotglass, but my hand slipped and it overflowed. Vodka flooded to my floor, and I nearly slipped on it except that I took hold of the bedpost. I chuckled and thanked it. Did it really mattered which way I died?  
  
So I took the vodka glass and began to bring it to my lips, except it slipped from my vodka-covered hands and fell to the ground, exploding into a firework of crystals. Many dug their way into my foot's skin, and I collapsed to the ground, howling in pain. My hand hit the bottles of pills, and they flew out of my way, with the bottle of already-opened pills spilling even more of their contents onto the floor. Angry, I took the vodka bottle and chucked it against the wall. It shattered, and knocked down a leather-bound book. I began to sob unintelligibly. I couldn't even kill myself without screwing it up.  
  
At that point, I began to gather everything up. Fine, I'd kill myself by overdosing on pills. All great people overdose, don't they? I don't care anymore. My hands reached for the book to put it back up, and just then I noticed it was the little book that Sarah had given to me on her deathbed. I'd been so involved in trying to forget about her death I hadn't even read her book. And so I slowly opened it up, and began to read the entries. One went along the lines of, "Spike got drunk again. I'm really getting tired of it, but I worry about him. He has to have some excuse, right?" and another went along the lines of, "Adrienne came up to me in the locker room today. She said that she liked my sweater. I'm not too sure what that means, but I think it's basically a statement that she's going to try to steal Spike from me. She can have him."  
  
I began to smile when my name began appearing. She did speak fondly of me, saying that despite the fact that I looked tough (that pleased me) I was probably the only person who listened, or cared about someone other then just myself. But then my face darkened as I read this entry.  
  
"Today, I was going to kill myself. Frankly, I have no idea why, it just seems like everything's building up and I'm not going anywhere. I brought my father's pocketknife with me to the graveyard. I was going to visit my mother. No, she doesn't have a grave (to me she mine as well be dead) but one of the only things I care to remember about her is that she used to love this elm tree that was planted there. Yes, I'm visiting my mother, the one that ran away with the butler. She doesn't remember my name, or my birthday, or even to send a card on Christmas. How can you live knowing your own mother didn't want you?  
  
"So I put on my best make-up and a nice dress, because when the morticians came and found my body beside the elm tree I wanted to at least salvage the beauty in it. I don't mind blood too much; it's as vital to us as water. But when I got there, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I just kept thinking about how this was my last chance, and I couldn't go back. Then I heard someone screaming. I ran over to see it was Ponyboy, the boy who saved me. Well, guess what? He saved me again, but this time it had nothing to do with thugs with bandanas and broken noses. He saved me from myself and the entire world, and that afternoon I fell in love for the first time. Thank you, Ponyboy."  
  
Tears stained her beautiful ink handwriting. This was all I had left of her. The beautiful cursive, arching and undulating every time her pen would spit out ink onto the bleached white paper. Sarah was going to kill herself that day in the graveyard. I glanced over at the pills, and the shattered vodka bottle, and then the realization of what I was going to do.  
  
I stuffed the diary into my back pocket and struggled to stand up. Slowly, I made my way for the door, feet surging with pain every time I moved, but I was so numb I didn't notice. Like a reincarnated zombie, I moved to the front door and opened it, stepping out into the real world. I took those steps for Sarah. This story, these hopes and dreams, all of it, is for Sarah. 


End file.
